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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469255">Innit Hotel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falling_Future/pseuds/Falling_Future'>Falling_Future</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark, Eggpire, Fainting, Gen, Horror, I tagged everyone with a speaking role regardless of prominence, Manipulation, Mild Blood, Mild Injury, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Trauma, almost everyone gets corrupted by the piece of egg in the hotel, also I’ve never written this many characters forgive me if some of them act ooc, also heads up I’m a clingyduo apologist that will be obvious, and there’ll be a few funny bits in between just to relive tension, but it’s mostly just back and forth dialogue, eggpire arc, not all the characters tagged speak in the first chapter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:15:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,953</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29469255</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falling_Future/pseuds/Falling_Future</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Big Innit Hotel has officially opened! Except something seems a bit off. Tubbo keeps finding twisting red vines in places they shouldn’t be, staff and customers are acting peculiar, and worst of all, he can’t help but shudder when ever he catches a glimpse of Tommy’s crimson colored eyes...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>215</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Normally, it was expected for such a grand event to be mate with anticipation and bated breath, excitement buzzing through the air. And while that may be the case for this particularly sunny day, there was one that stood out amongst the gathering crowd, someone who saw through the facade of cheer and delight.</p><p>Tubbo had to shield his eyes from the sun by raising a hand over his head, the mid-noon glow simmering down on him and the group of attendees milling about. Some of them weren’t even aware of the shorter boy’s presence, occasionally bumping past him for a better look at the spectacle of the hour. He draws in a sigh when a heavy figure brushes past him and nearly sends him falling to the floor, stepping back in order to retain balance along the old wooden path. At <em> least </em> those who stood in front of him and obscured his view would provide relief from the sweltering heat, although it didn’t sit quite right with him that he had to be in so many other’s shadows just so he won’t pass out.</p><p>He makes a shy glance at the beacon with a few people standing in the way, necks craned and one standing on the edge of their toes just for a glimpse of what was to come. He didn’t want to risk putting himself back out into the dreadful heat, and god forbid the blocks of gold and emerald were beyond hot from being out and exposed all day, but <em> oh </em>how the desire to rest his weary legs and take a sip from a cool, refreshing water bottle to stave off not only the warmth, but his anxiety as well.</p><p>Tubbo had woken up with a pit in his stomach, and not once did it ever flee him, even on the boat ride here. On that note, thoughts of Snowchester’s cool, frigid air relieving him of its harsh opposite made him yearn to head back. That he was worked up over nothing and wasted a good hour baking in the sun and for what? But he thought better, thought that <em> surely </em>, the hotel would have air conditioning and refreshments. He had recalled something about a few last minute additions, things that almost seemed unnecessary because of the hotel’s nature.</p><p>It <em> was </em> meant to house those who wished to seek aid and shelter from any sort of conflict that would arise within neighboring lands, wanting to sit out the chaos rather than participate in it. A dining room, Tubbo could understand that. And perhaps a ballroom could double as a bunker considering it was below the lobby. But what he found odd, was the pool. Most hotels, even small ones with customers who usually stayed for two nights maximum, always had some sort of pool guests could wade in. It wasn’t out of place either, right at the end of the hall to the lobby as he was informed, but <em> why </em>build a pool if it was built to harbor those hiding from the horrors of war? </p><p>He <em> could </em> be looking too much into things, that Tommy just wanted to attract more customers with luxuries like a pool and ballroom. It wasn’t that far off from what he normally did, and as far as he could tell he would comply with most of the tasks Sam Nook had asked of him. Maybe these new additions were just that, and it was nothing to fret over. Yet that strange feeling still stirred in his gut, blue eyes flitting about. He spotted familiar figures, surprised by the turnout. It wasn’t as though Tubbo wanted his friend to fail at the grand opening, but some of the familiar faces… <em> weren't </em> on the best terms with Tommy. Which is what was so surprising to the young teen, that even Phil, someone he had shied away from when he first spotted a flash of his green robes, showed up to this event, having to know who it’s organizer was.</p><p>The hotel could be seen as normal, save for a few odd touches. But something inside of him just didn’t sit <em> right</em>. Call it an instinct, a third eye, whatever it may be, Tubbo had been more wary about whenever something was wrong. All he can cling to now as he swallows back a lump rising in the back of his throat, is that <em> Tommy </em> wasn’t in trouble. Regardless, he wanted to see his friend in this hopefully successful endeavor, and just to see him in general. He had up and vanished for the past few days, whereabouts unknown and tubbo left confused. Then again, he couldn’t <em> blame </em>Tommy, he had wanted these finishing touches, and something like that would take up a large portion of his time. All he could do now was sit, wait, and not pass out from the heat.</p><p>His attention spikes when something shifts from the front of the hotel, a figure stepping forth from the set of double doors. Tubbo considered those closest lucky, catching the slightest taste of what was to come by straining to see what was beyond whoever had just exited. His soft blue gaze darts around, tensing up ever so slightly from not only anticipation, but the group of people awkwardly closing off what little space he had. He was never really one for crowds, especially not for big events like this. It hurt his fuzzy, delicate ears whenever a large audience would fill the area with uproarious cheers, and the boy had no doubt there’d be some kind of thunderous applause that would make him inwardly cringe and flatten the set of goat ears against his head. </p><p>Just the thought makes one of them twitch, but it’s quickly forgotten about the moment a distinct sound makes them perk up, the crowd around him stiffening as though they had heard the same thing. There was a lack of fanfare, or any music for that matter. It wasn’t as though he <em> demanded </em> some sort of tune be present, but how could tommy not take another chance to boast about how he got his discs back along with the opening of something as interesting as a hotel? Nobody expected him to do either of them, but now, <em> now </em>he’ll prove them wrong a second time if business is successful. </p><p>And that’s who Tubbo expects to see at the front, drifting ever so closer just for a glimpse at his friend. He wouldn’t deny his heart sank a little when he recognized the form at the front entrance ready to welcome over a dozen guests, but that didn’t mean tommy was far off from the hotel! No way he’d miss his grand opening- in fact tubbo found it quite <em> peculiar </em> that <em> Sam Nook </em> was the one addressing the crowd. Wouldn’t it be better publicity if Tommy himself had come to announce? At first Tubbo tries to brush it off, that there’s a bit of a delay and that was why Sam had appeared, to tell them that it would be a few more minutes before all patrons could enjoy the stunning build. </p><p>Like a raging wave, it’s swept away, sinking deep into the depths of concern when the creeper hybrid speaks, a shoddy, cartoonish raccoon mask plastered over his face.</p><p><b>“WELCOME, EVERYONE!”</b> The voice reaches to those furthest in the crowd, extending his arms out in greeting. <b>“IT IS GREAT TO SEE SUCH A LOVELY TURNOUT FOR OUR GRAND OPENING. TOMMY HAS BEEN VERY HARD AT WORK MAKING SURE EACH AND EVERY DETAIL CATERS TO YOUR PRIORITIES…”</b></p><p>Tubbo can’t help but wonder <em> again </em> how a ballroom constitutes as a priority.</p><p><b>“WE AT BIG INNIT HOTEL UNDERSTAND TODAY IS EXCESSIVELY HOT-“</b> The masked figure pauses to feign wiping sweat off his brow, a few chuckles of agreement floating in the air. <b>“BUT THAT WILL NO LONGER MATTER. BIG INNIT HOTEL IS AIR CONDITIONED FOR YOUR BEST EXPERIENCE, ALONG WITH WATER SOLD AT CONCESSIONS. AND FOR THOSE FEELING A BIT TOO BOTHERED BY THE HEAT, WE SUGGEST COOLING OFF IN OUR READY TO USE POOL!”</b></p><p>This time, small cheers erupt, Tubbo himself joining in mostly out of obligation. There was a layer of impatience beneath some of the voices, wishing to speed up the process and enter the cool, refreshing lobby and out of the baking sun.</p><p>Sam Nook nods, folding his hands behind his back before glancing at the door. It lingers there, and all that could be heard was a cough amidst the silence. Just before he had remained quiet for what would be considered <em> too </em> long, the disguised creeper pipes up once more. </p><p>
  <b>“AT THE LOBBY YOU WILL BE ABLE TO CHECK IN AND CHOOSE ANY ROOM AVAILABLE. PLEASE ASK OUR RECEPTIONISTS IF YOU REQUIRE ANY ACCOMMODATIONS FOR YOUR STAY.”</b>
</p><p>With that, Sam clears his throat, inching back towards the doors. He takes another quick glance at the glass frames, or what’s beyond it, and gestures with his hand to create a thumbs up. Nobody could truly see <em> who </em>was beyond the door, but seems as though the preparations had come to an end, and business was ready to start.</p><p><b>“EVERYONE….”</b> A hand rests on one of the doors, Sam Nook pushing inward and allowing a cool gust of air to infiltrate the outside. <b>“WELCOME TO BIG INNIT HOTEL! PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY!”</b></p><p>The young goat boy can’t help but squeak as the group disperses and begins to file in, constantly bumping into him and paying no mind as they attempt to swiftly make their entrance. His shoulders remain stiff, gaze wide and feet forcing themselves to carry the rest of him as he’s practically shoved to the front doors against his will. From what he could see if the exterior, it was a monolithic building with intricately carved stone and red concrete to accent. It was a simple design, but the grand scale was impressive to say the least. And that was merely the outside, Tubbo had no idea what lay within. </p><p>He was so captivated in the hotel’s size and what would await him that he had almost completely forgotten about his suspicions. They quickly come back, like a dark gray cloud rolling over his brief touch of sunshine. <em> This could be a facade, </em> He reminded himself. <em> Tommy could be in trouble, and he’d have no idea until it was too late. </em></p><p>The brunette’s face screws up in determination as he picks up his stride, not wanting to be tossed about any longer. Amidst the blur of clothing and faces he manages to stumble into a cold, fluttering breeze. It was a heavenly contrast to the boiling temperatures outside, and only after he comes out of his daze does he fully take in the lobby.</p><p>Tile squeaks beneath the feet of many, some talking with their friends or giving a friendly hello to those they haven’t spoken with in some time. Thinking about it, Tubbo should have said something to <em> someone </em>here, but he supposed he had plenty of time to do that later. He wasn’t here for pleasant, or possibly unpleasant, conversation. Off to the farthest right was the concession stand, a small desk with shelves upon shelves of candy and snacks piled up high. Tubbo could even spot a few trinkets and knick knacks dangling from racks and coolers stuffed with drinks at his first glance.</p><p>A brief pang of hunger strikes him, silently cursing himself for skipping breakfast. It was that <em> horrible </em> feeling in his gut he had woken up with that caused said decision, but now that it had dissipated a little he couldn’t help but eye the tempting confectionaries.</p><p>
  <em> “There better be a bar here.” </em>
</p><p>Tubbo blinks from his snack induced trance, looking over his shoulder at a familiar, gruff voice. His ears flick, eavesdropping on the small banter while he eyes the pair of young men.</p><p><em> “A bar?” </em> There’s a disbelieving chuckle from the higher voice, thick with an accent. He plucks off his set of monochrome glasses from his face, wiping the lenses with his shirt. “The hotel made by <em> a child </em> is going to have a <em> bar? </em>”</p><p>There’s a loud, almost exaggerated groan from Sapnap, slumping against the other boy.</p><p>“Wh- Sapnap!” George looked to be rather agitated that his friend had interfered with his glasses being thoroughly cleaned, placing them back on in a huff.</p><p>“What? They’re fine!”</p><p>“They are <em> not </em>fine!” He objects.</p><p>“Then why did you put them back on!?”</p><p>A mutter emits from the shorter of the two, a clearly annoyed <em> “Oh my god,” </em>leaving George as he steps back from him. “If you’re so worried about there being a bar then go ask a receptionist.”</p><p>“But they’re busy!” Sapnap gestures towards the desk right at the center of the lobby, just straight across from the front entrance. There was a whiny tone in the archer’s declaration, his glare primarily focused on his friend who was obviously trying to get him to go away.</p><p>“You can ask Sam Nook!” George huffs. “There-There’s probably like- a <em> billion </em>staff workers here too!”</p><p>The taller boy tsks, a half smirk forming as he crosses his arms. “You really think <em> Tommy </em> would hire staff?”</p><p>“He’s got to have <em> somebody </em>working here.”</p><p>“What if it’s <em> just </em>the receptionists though?”</p><p>At this point, Tubbo had stepped closer towards the argument, mouth parted open and hand partially raised to try and cut in. Normally he’d sit back and watch, get his own entertainment out of the two of them bickering, but time was of essence, and perhaps directing them to someone who <em> could </em> help answer their question would be best. He didn’t <em> know </em>if there was in fact a bar here, but he can’t imagine Tommy would think of that given his age.</p><p>“Uhm-“</p><p>Before he could even get a word in, their spat comes to a close.</p><p>“It’s not! It’s not, I can guarantee you that.”</p><p>“We’ve been in here for three minutes!”</p><p>
  <em> “Sapnap!” </em>
</p><p>“Fine!” He groans, finally giving in to George’s suggestion. He aggressively tightens the band of cloth cinched tightly around his hair, rolling his eyes at the other boy. “Fine. I’ll go ask Sam Nook.”</p><p>“Good.” George mutters, folding his arms to mimic Sapnap just a few moments ago. “I’m going to go check us in you...dummy….”</p><p>“You’re the dummy.” There’s a joyful cackle from Sapnap as he quickly tousles George’s hair before taking off towards the doors in a light sprint, leaving the other boy to fix his hair while making his way towards the receptionist’s desk.</p><p>Tubbo lets a curse slip under his breath. <em> “Damnit.” </em> It was low and soft, the boy shyly walking towards the desk. The line had piled up early on, something he should have seen coming. He leans to the side once he’s close enough to the center of the lobby, trying to spot whoever was checking people in. The most he saw in the sea of people was a finely trimmed black suit with a red tie, staff uniforms if Tubbo had to guess. </p><p>He opens his mouth, wanting to call out to Tommy in hopes that he was one of the receptionists. He’d <em> have </em>to watch all his customers properly pay with no strings attached, right? Or at least, that’s what Tubbo assumes Tommy would do in this situation. Despite his somewhat reckless attitude and schemes planned on a whim, his best friend had a habit of double checking. Even before all their strife, he would make damn sure he had gotten what he wanted without any trickery to be found. And while Tubbo wasn’t one to immediately think the worst in people, some of the so called guests have had run-ins with Tommy on several occasions. Maybe they truly wished for a place to stay and that was that.</p><p>Before the name even leaves his throat he stops dead in his tracks. His body falls stiff, a small tail drooping and ears tilted downward. It was only but a glimpse of the line ahead, of the individuals who wanted to check in, but a single glance alone sent an icy chill down his spine. He thanked <em> whoever </em>that he hadn’t uttered a peep, because not too far ahead of the line was someone with a large, burly figure.</p><p>In this crowd, they stood out, but none seemed too intimidated by the boarish form hunched over and simply waiting in line. It was a strange sight to see, one that makes Tubbo’s vision blur before spinning. It was as if all the blood had rushed to his head, nearly on the verge of fainting before he manages to find himself against the wall. Deep, ragged breaths catch the attention of those closest to the front doors, as well as some at the end of the line. But save for a few raised brows, tiny ocean colored dots remain locked on a humanoid pig beside a much thinner figure by comparison, a set of scorched, jet black wings resting along his robed back.</p><p>Tubbo <em> really </em>has to thank Tommy for not launching any fireworks during the opening ceremony.</p><p>It was then, that the horrid, gut wrenching feeling had returned with a vengeance. The brunette’s throat <em> burned </em> when he had to swallow back bile, legs numb and practically useless. All color had been drained from his face, and those who gave him an off-handed glance ignored him, simply not bothering. Was this the source of the sensation of <em> wrongness? </em> Why was <em> Techno </em> here? Tommy mentioned that he invited the tenants of the Arctic Empire, but the other boy hadn’t thought they’d actually show up. <em> But why? </em> Certainly they wouldn’t be here for Tommy’s benefit- they <em> despise </em> him. They left L’manberg a <em> smoking crater </em> and after spending many nights comforting his dearest friend, hearing what <em> Dream </em> had done to him in exile...it made his blood <em> boil </em> that those two had <em> teamed up </em> with him, especially with one being aware of Tommy’s mistreatment.</p><p>But no matter how much fury festers and fills inside of Tubbo, it’s <em> fear </em> that always triumphs. It’s the <em> fear </em> of his racing heart coming to a stop once a <em> burning hole </em> is carved into it. It’s the sensation of being <em> locked in, no way to escape and trapped like a helpless animal.  </em></p><p>Tubbo swallows, unaware of how rapid his breathing had become. Sweat forms along his brow despite the cool air, a dull ringing beginning to slowly rise from the back of his mind and towards the forefront of his head. A single loud sound would set him off- <em> anything </em> that sounds like a firecracker or tnt and <em> oh god Techno’s plotting to blow the place to smithereens isn’t he- </em></p><p>“Tubbo?”</p><p>A high pitched bleat makes the clawed hand placed on Tubbo’s shoulder flinch back, the boy nearly shrinking into the corner. It wasn’t <em> often </em>Tubbo imitated the sounds of a goat, but sometimes instinctive nature took over when he was more overwhelmed. He once spent nearly two hours head-butting trees with his horns after going into a fit of rage, and Snowchester’s forestry has the marks to prove it.</p><p>It seems as though Tubbo had partially frightened the other, much <em> taller </em>boy too, an odd, unworldly sound leaving him. A thin, wiry tail flicks in mild distress, slitted eyes locked on the frightened brunette.</p><p><em> “Jesus man!” </em> Is the first thi he manages to squeak out, followed by a groan. He clutches at his pounding heart, gaze flicking from Technoblade who was now checking in beside Phil, to his other friend. “You scared the crap out of me! I-I was about to drop to the ground!”</p><p>“A-Ah, sorry!” The half enderman starts, lifting his palms and gently waving them. Some kind of fear had instilled itself into Ranboo, perhaps the embarrassment of scaring his good friend. “I didn’t know you were so out of it, I just thought you needed water or...something.”</p><p>“At least you had the decency to do something I guess…” He couldn’t help but mutter the passive aggressive comment, a tad pissed that all the other patrons saw him spiraling, only for them to turn a blind eye save for Ranboo. </p><p>“Were you really about to faint?” The heterochromatic gaze widens ever so slightly, Ranboo giving a curious head tilt. If his friend wasn’t feeling well, then that had to be remedied! “There’s a concession stand if you-“</p><p>“I know about the concession stand.” Tubbo responds quickly, pausing to swallow hard. “And- I dunno. Maybe I was...a-about to faint but it...I think I’m all good now!”</p><p>“You’re...<em> sure?” </em> Ranboo didn’t sound convinced.</p><p>“Yes Ranboo I am perfectly fine.” Tubbo responds flatly.</p><p>“Well,” the enderman’s gaze drifts, an awkward silence hanging in the air. “You should at least uh- lay down. So let's get you checked in as soon as possible.” A thought occurs to the well dressed boy. “Wait, wouldn't Tommy let you check in like, immediately?”</p><p>“You’re saying that like I have special perks here.”</p><p>Ranboo shrugs. “I mean, I just thought that- we’ll you two are so close and all that he’d- maybe let you...<em> skip the lines? </em>” There’s hesitation in that last part, his claws scraping along the back of his own neck.</p><p>Tubbo lets out a soft chuckle as he pulls himself back towards the line, shaking his head. “I think it’s best if we wait. See Ranboo, I’d rather not...uhm...” His eyes slowly drift back towards Techno and Phil, the pair looking to be signing papers. “<em> Agitate </em> anyone…”</p><p>“Hm?” It doesn’t take long for the ender being to find out Tubbo’s issue once he follows his gaze. He can feel the beginnings of a nervous cough rising from his chest, but forcibly swallows it back down. <em> “Oh.” </em></p><p> Whether he’s aware or not, he frantically taps his claw against his leg, trying to push back any conflicting thoughts about taking sides. Tubbo had been kind to him, treated him well and offered him a place in Snowchester. But Techno was at least letting him hide out on his land, the pig aware of his presence and seeming rather welcoming. Ranboo still didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, but he was cozy where he was...for the most part.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I said why are you here?” Tubbo had noticed Ranboo’s far off gaze, and before he realized what he had asked, he backs away flustered. The enderman had memory problems, did he not? On one hand if he’s forgotten his place of residence he should <em> tell </em> Ranboo, but on the other hand would that be considered rude? He didn’t want to make Ranboo panic with any unpleasant memories being brought back to the surface.</p><p>“Oh! I…” He clicks his tongue, trying to avert his gaze from Techno and Phil. He had followed them, knowing fully well today was the date of the hotel’s opening- something even <em> he’s </em>surprised he remembers. “I just...wanted to see if this place is...worth it. B-But I mostly want to support Tommy...like I assume you’re doing too.”</p><p>The explanation made sense, at least to the other boy it did. “I see, I see. Well hopefully you get a super cool enderman room!”</p><p>“Yeah,” Cheeriness returns to monochromatic tern’s voice, his tail curling. “I don’t know if this place has themed rooms, but maybe if I ask for accommodations then…” </p><p>Well, he wouldn’t want to bother the staff with that, it might be too much of a hassle for them. But he was a paying customer, and he needed certain perks that wouldn’t put him in any danger. There was a pool for crying out loud, and how easy would it be for him to fall in or suffer in the bathroom when he just wanted to take a shower? </p><p>“Ranboo?”</p><p>“Yeah?” He clears his throat. “Yeah, what is it?”</p><p>Tubbo raises a brow, eyes trained on the other boy fidgeting with his tie as he steps forward in line. “You alright, man?</p><p>“It’s good, I’m...I’m good.” Something prickles beneath his skin when Tubbo locks eyes with him. It was a gaze of suspicion, <em> accusation.  </em></p><p>Not only did Ranboo have to grapple with three of his friends, two out of the three of them being enemies for the other, but there was a <em> far more sinister </em> happening going on within his own self. Visiting the hotel, supporting Tommy? All of it was but a front. What he truly wants, is release. If staying at this hotel grants him a <em> single </em> night of peace and <em> no interference </em>from Dream, then that would certainly make things better for the young boy. </p><p>Then again, Dream has this...<em> obsession </em> with Tommy. What if he’s wrong, and then destroys the hotel without even realizing? Even worse, what if he was subconsciously lead here, and that’s why he remembered the grand opening? Maybe he <em> should </em>ask about special accommodations after all…</p><p>The brunette had given up on talking with Ranboo after another three minutes, the conversation having fizzled and died. Ranboo clearly looked on edge about <em> something- </em>then again Tubbo couldn’t be one to judge considering the ender boy had found him a near wreck- but he wasn’t sure what it was specifically. Did Ranboo have a bad feeling about this place as well? In the time it took for them to stand in line, he had kept making over the shoulder glances at Ranboo. He had either been staring at the ground or intentionally avoiding Tubbo’s line of sight altogether because at one point, he swore he had intentionally ducked behind Jack despite their difference in height.</p><p>With all that glancing, he had barely realized that he was now at the front of the receptionist’s desk, nor was he paying attention to the voice that greeted him. He didn’t catch the<em> “Hello!” </em> that they receptionist started with, and only tuned in once he heard <em> “-Innit Hotel.” </em></p><p>“How can we help you?”</p><p>“How can you help me?” The distracted boy brings his focus back to the receptionist, ready to check in.</p><p>When his blood freezes.</p><p>The air conditioning of the room, and even <em> Snowchester </em> was <em> nothing </em> compared to the ice that had just pierced into his skin. He blinks in surprise at the receptionist, and flinches when he spots the one <em> next </em> to him scribbling down a bunch of notes on paperwork. The uncomfortable feeling had blown into full on <em> horror </em>as he stares silently at the pair, mouth agape and mind desperately working to keep itself afloat.</p><p>“Yeah!” The hooded demon chirps, a thin tail peeking up ever so slightly. A set of clawed hands were folded neatly on the desk, white eyes peering into Tubbo’s soul with something indescribable. The teen considered it to be underlying malice, the off putting smile enough to convince him. “Are you looking to check in?”</p><p>“I...I don’t…”</p><p>Why was nobody saying anything? Why didn’t they <em> care? </em> Tubbo knew for a <em> fact </em> that people were aware of the ongoings with the Eggpire, and the demon receptionist along with a bipedal cat as his assistant were the main instigators to indoctrinate innocent people into adoring their mind parasite. He looks around, desperately hoping for <em> someone </em> to call out this ploy, that they had invaded Tommy’s hotel the night before and were posing as staff. Was that not obvious? They had no business being here and now he’s worried about this newly opened place being torched to the ground if so much of a trace of the egg was found within the walls!</p><p>“You’re holding up the line-“ Antfrost interrupts, leaning towards his partner. Slitted eyes stare the brunette down intensely, while Bad merely remained in the same position of faux cheer. “It’s best that you check in.”</p><p><em> “N-No!” </em> Finally, something emerges from his throat that had been previously stitched shut. He’s loud enough to attract the attention of one or two patrons behind him, but not much else save for an odd glance. “No I’m not! I’m not doing <em> anything </em>for either of you!”</p><p>“Tubbo, if you want to check in-“</p><p>“You don’t even <em> work </em> here!” Slowly, his fear was spilling over into rage. How <em> dare </em>they try and ruin this for Tommy, just so they could force people to join their weird cult. He wasn’t going to let his best friend’s reputation be tarnished like this, for these two to soil a hotel that had been open for less than an hour! “Why-“</p><p>The sound of a chair scraping against the polished floor makes Tubbo stop, the receptionist’s hands now unfolding and fingertips resting on the table’s surface as he rises. And as he does, the boy looks on, having to tilt his head up. Whatever anger had seared bravery into his soul quickly vanished, a spark doused in water before it could even become a flame. He swallows as the being’s expression turns cross, towering over Tubbo due to his irregular height.</p><p><em> “Then leave.” </em> It was a demand, a <em> hiss </em>as Bad leans forward, piercing eyes trying to get the fear within Tubbo to break him on the spot.</p><p>All he can squeak out is a small <em> “But…” </em>, voice dying near instantly when the glare intensifies. He shrinks back, goat ears drooping and legs locking in place as he’s told a second time to leave in a far more harsh tone.</p><p>“Leave or I’ll m-“</p><p>
  <em> “What’s all this then?” </em>
</p><p>Tubbo’s heart soared at the familiar voice, bright blue eyes trying to find the source. He spots a figure just slightly taller than him emerging from the crowd of people, and the boy hopes he can catch a glimpse of fury and pride in Tommy’s eyes when he tells those two <em> frauds </em>to scram.</p><p><em> “Tommy!” </em> He doesn’t care about the crack in his voice, or the sheer joyous relief in his tone when he prepares to jump into his best friend’s arms. He isn’t sure if he should congratulate him first or get him to make Bad and Ant leave, but the latter seems like a larger priority.</p><p>The smile on Tubbo’s face deteriorates when Tommy finally makes his way between his friend and the receptionist’s desk. He had expected an angered outburst upon seeing the two, that he’d cuss like a sailor until Bad would leave before Antfrost would follow, but none of it came. No sensation of justice would come, but terror crashed into the boy as though the building had just collapsed on top of him.</p><p>It was the eyes that made his heart sink first.</p><p>In all his time spent waiting, when he approached Tommy he had wanted to see the absolute glee in his icy blue eyes, to watch them dance with life as he expressed how <em> excited </em> he was to make business. There was no way Tommy <em> wouldn’t </em>boast about a turnout like this, Tubbo knew that much.</p><p>But the moment he laid eyes upon a deep, hellish crimson, it was clear that fantasy would be violently pried away from him. Now there was only the horror of it all, the panic rushing through his veins as his heart races faster and faster. He doesn’t care about the bespoke suit his friend was wearing, a striking red tie included, and he doesn’t care about the slicked back hair that had nearly all the knots combed out of it. He only cared about <em> his eyes, </em>the imprisonment of his friend’s very mind and soul.</p><p>
  <em> “T…” </em>
</p><p>“Tubbo, my friend!” It sounds familiar, too familiar for comfort. And while normally he’d repeat the same sentiment along with Tommy, he couldn’t help but want to rear back from it. His mind had gone from speeding a mile a minute to stopping dead in its tracks, trying to process the sight before him.</p><p>It can’t, and that becomes blatantly clear when his world shifts, blackness crawling into his vision.</p><p>The very last thing he sees, before dropping to the floor in a motionless heap, is vibrant red eyes that now belong to his closest friend. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! Firstly I wanted to say thank you for all the support it means a lot to me!! Secondly, this fic was made the day before the hotel was revealed on the dream smp, so the inside of the hotel in this fic is more like a real hotel/resort than the one on the smp. Also later on in this chapter there’s a part where tommy and tubbo dance together and please don’t take it as romantic or having “romantic undertones” this is all platonic clingyduo!! Thank you!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>Sacrificial lamb…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come to me, sacrificial lamb…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Embrace undesire, indulge contently on the precipice of any pain being far, far away….</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Or suffer a fate worse you can imagine.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo awakens with a jolt, eyes snapping wide open. Consciousness congratulates him with the pleasant gift of an </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful</span>
  </em>
  <span> throbbing in his head. He winces when he tries to move, joints stiff and nearly as painful as his headache. His horns, although small, now feel like an extra </span>
  <em>
    <span>weight </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the sensation of what feels like pounds of iron being forced upon his head, grinding down and making his ears ring. He nearly faints again when he </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels </span>
  </em>
  <span>the blood rushing through his head, knowing fully well that if he do much as moved wrong, he’d suffer from severe vertigo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was of course, until movement caught his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Begrudgingly, Tubbo shifts along the plush material, adjusting to his surroundings. It was only a blur he caught, his world mostly a series of misshapen, dark colored blobs spotting his vision. One color, stands out among the rest. Bright and vibrant, his head racking to recall what it reminds him of. He swallows back bile as he manages to sit up, his body sinking against soft material. He takes his eyes off the movement for just a second, just so he can see what had provided him a more comforting resting place than the cold tile he had plummeted onto earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When his vision finally adjusts, the goat boy’s heart races, along with the expression to prove his fear. It was a standard King sized bed, the downy mattress moving along with him. The bed itself isn’t the problem, but more so the thick, quilted sheets he had been laying on. They were a rich, velvet </span>
  <em>
    <span>crimson</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that color, is what reignites the panic he had experienced before blacking our.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scuttles off of the thing as if he were laying on a pool of acid, whirling around to make sure the damn thing wouldn’t leap up and bite him. At first he doesn’t know why he’s so mortified of the color, his memory foggy. But that </span>
  <em>
    <span>red </span>
  </em>
  <span>clicks some part of his mind that longed to forget despite its recent happening, that it was just a far off dream and he was fine. But there was no escaping the crimson laced throughout the hotel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was no escaping the red he saw in Tommy’s eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His manic gaze flits around as he works out the area before him, a cozy nightstand right beside the bed Tubbo looks down upon as though it were an ancient beast waiting to strike. A lamp rests on its flat wooden surface, easy to access with the push of a button. Beige-gray walls surround him on all sides, save for the far left, a sliding glass door that lead out onto a balcony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before he can look behind him to spot the desk and chair, the drawers and cabinets, or look to the right of him and see the entrance to the complimentary bathroom, that bright, vivid color fills his vision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he stumbles into it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He skitters back, flailing his hands out to blindly fend off the movement he had captured when he had woken up. When a cry fills the room, Tubbo responds with a terrified shout that quickly dies away, his voice hoarse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, hey!” The thing the brunette had smacked backs away, raising a hand to rub at his wounded cheek. “You’re welcome, sleeping beauty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo tilts his head when he recognizes the voice. “Purpled?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” The boy in question says flatly, placing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie with a distinctive sound following not too long after. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you...doing here…?” He’s just about ready to chew him out for the scare, but honestly he had no idea if he is an intruder or roommate. Who was he kidding? Even if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>his roommate, Tubbo was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>intending to stay in this hell hole another second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I work here?” The other teen says it like he expects Tubbo to be fully aware of that fact. He rolls his eyes, placing his hand away from his cheek and moving towards Tubbo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The goat boy steps back, thinking he was going to strike in revenge when Purpled bends down, rummaging through the set of bottom cabinets installed on the drawers. Upon opening, light pools into the dark crevice, revealing an ice tray with complimentary drinks and other delights scattered within. The dirty blonde snatches a handful of ice cubes, ignoring the swirling mist spilling out onto the carpeted floor before pushing it shut with his heel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait a minute, </span>
  <em>
    <span>work </span>
  </em>
  <span>here?” He could ask why someone who tends to scam their way to riches would even consider getting a job, when the more sinister explanation presents itself. He lowers his voice, taking another timid step back as he hesitates to ask his next question. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you work for the egg?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>In response, Purpled shrugs. “Eh.” He gestures with his free hand, making a “so-so” motion before grabbing a roll of paper towel from the top of the drawer, a bottle of cleaning fluid standing right beside it.</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna be honest, that’s not...very comforting.” He blinks rapidly, catching himself against the wall just in time as darkness intrudes on his sight once more. His legs were already shaky at best, but in that moment they turn numb and almost send the boy to his knees were it not for him propping himself up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take it easy,” The nonchalant tone </span>
  <em>
    <span>still</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t making Tubbo feel any better. “I was waiting for you to wake up anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s eyes widen. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy wanted me to make sure you were okay or, whatever.” There’s an air of annoyance in his inflection when speaking about his task. “And now you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s here?” He didn’t even consider how many floors up he was, but that’s the last thing on his mind. Purpled’s words stick out to him, that Tommy seemed </span>
  <em>
    <span>worried </span>
  </em>
  <span>about him even though the egg was influencing him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Purpled stares at him with a deadpan expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on man!” Tubbo can just </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell</span>
  </em>
  <span> the other boy was upset with whatever “luxury” he ‘s been given in his time of unconsciousness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You-“ Purpled starts, grabbing the supplies from off the drawer and striding past him. “Are in the suite. The deluxe of the deluxe. And,” He pauses with a sarcastic chuckle before the faintest hint of malice forms in his voice. Tubbo swears he could see his eyes briefly flash red. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Everything is on the house.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s…” Admittedly, Tubbo found himself shying away from Purpled’s intimidating gaze, his face turning slightly rosy. Oh it was cool, if the place wasn’t ran with cultists who probably have part of the egg lurking within its walls- but for </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be free of charge? What game is Tommy playing at? What game is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>egg</span>
  </em>
  <span> playing at? “That’s uhm...real nice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is,” The blonde half heartedly agrees, his hands shifting in his pockets. Tubbo’s ears flick up at a distinctive clinking sound, his soft blue stare taking note of the enderchest sitting in the corner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hasn’t put his belongings in there yet, had he? At least, he doesn’t recall doing so. He had some treasures already stored away in there, but the diamonds and emeralds he intended on using as currency had yet to be put back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Purpled?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Purpled pauses seconds before he reaches the door handle, visibly tensing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you- Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mug </span>
  </em>
  <span>me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I uh-“ The teen turns around, lifting his hands from his pockets. His violet gaze shifts around wildly before resting on Tubbo. “You know actually, I don’t think I’ve given you the hotel’s complimentary mugs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo quickly checks his pockets before looking up at Purpled with a stern glare, voice going flat as he replies to the outlandish statement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Purpled that is not what I meant.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” He shrugs, the door opening with a soft click. The nervousness in his eyes immediately gave away the falseness of his awkward, toothy grin, the boy taking slow steps backwards towards the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>have them back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can...have them back at the end of your stay. You know if they end up in the lost and found-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not staying here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, that makes Purpled drop his act of trying to get away with theft. His smile instantly falls, lips parted and eyes going blank. The suddenness of his change in demeanor made Tubbo shudder, one he couldn’t hide from the other boy. Purpled remains in the doorway, artificial light from the hall casting down onto him, shadows glinting upon his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Everyone stays,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The dry, sly tone had vanished, an off one left in its wake. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Eventually.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm-“ Tubbo is no longer certain that he wishes to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight </span>
  </em>
  <span>the possessed teen for his items back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I gotta go!” He chirps, tucking his hands back into his hoodie, the clinking sound only fueling Tubbo’s ire. With an almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>smug smile, Purpled meets his gaze. “Have to ask Tommy where Puffy is staying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why Puffy?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No reason.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette glances away, holding back the urge to drag his heel into the ground out of frustration. “Okay.” Is all he says, that gut wrenching dread making its grand return once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What does Purpled want with Puffy? He at first thinks he just has to clean her room, until his next response makes him sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>strange. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-the dance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Purpled said something to him, but the lingering onset of questions piling on top of each other left Tubbo disillusioned to that fact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t forget about the dance.” Purpled repeats, tapping his index finger on the wooden doorframe. “Tonight at eight. The grand ballroom, there’s a staircase right by the lobby, can’t miss it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would I-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy wants you there.” Purpled interrupts him, as if he preemptively knew what he was going to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be gone before then…” As disturbing as the first time he brought it up was, he isn’t going to let Purpled’s- or in this case, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>egg’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>strange intimidation tactics actually prevail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Completely ignoring Tubbo’s statement, Purpled casually waves goodbye “See you there!” He trots past the door and down the hall, his footsteps slowly fading away, leaving the brunette confused as to why he didn’t simply close the door on his way out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of going anywhere near that dance makes Tubbo’s skin crawl as he shuts the door, swiftly locking it in the process. In fact, just being in this </span>
  <em>
    <span>room </span>
  </em>
  <span>unsettles him, but it was better than bumping into Purpled during an attempt to escape. There has to be an ulterior motive to this dance, right? The facade is that it would be to congratulate Tommy’s wonderful turnout, to mark the opening of what would become a staple in history. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The egg has to have a part in this, no way would an event like that be organized without those infected catering it. Are they intending to spread it throughout the night? As far as he knows the entire hotel was infested with vines </span>
  <em>
    <span>somewhere, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he just isn’t sure where. An image of a blood colored ballroom makes him wince, vines grasping at patrons and keeping them there to wade in the humid air until they give into the egg’s temptations while it’s far too late for anyone to do anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>person could escape, if someone who knew this was all a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie </span>
  </em>
  <span>and could leave undetected, then they could shut this thing down! As much as it left a small pain in Tubbo’s chest that he’d have to put his best friend out of business… No, he can’t think like that. He can’t let empathy override rationality. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy. Well, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but the one making all these ludicrous decisions, enforcing the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>nobody </span>
  </em>
  <span>can leave early? That </span>
  <em>
    <span>parasite </span>
  </em>
  <span>got to Tommy, and is turning him into a puppet that it can stuff false promises into.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He won’t let his friend succumb to the egg the same way Bad and Ant did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s when the idea of a confrontation comes to mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries pushing it back the second it comes up, but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>sticks. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It sticks and </span>
  <em>
    <span>festers </span>
  </em>
  <span>like a sickly moss, desperate to convince himself that </span>
  <em>
    <span>escape </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be the more sane option. But...what if the ballroom isn’t where the egg spore is? It could very well be near, yes, but what if it was simply a regular ballroom? Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>him to be there, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>egg </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants him to be there. It isn’t just an invite, it was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>challenge. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Perhaps he’s foolish to take the bait, that the egg is already aware Tubbo would figure out something is wrong before he even started, but...if he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>find</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tommy…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not out in the crowd of dresses and suits, not anywhere within the hotel, but within his </span>
  <em>
    <span>eyes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If he can find a </span>
  <em>
    <span>spark </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the real Tommy, the Tommy he trusts and </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows for a fact </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s trying to fight against its power regardless of what lies it’s feeding him, then maybe...maybe Tommy could keep his hotel </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>help get rid of the egg’s influence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a long shot, and for one last time Tubbo stubbornly tries to </span>
  <em>
    <span>reason </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he should just </span>
  <em>
    <span>try and leave immediately, that it was a trap the egg had set up specifically for him with Tommy being involved…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But...he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>leave his friend behind. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>leave tommy to suffer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s looked worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bit of a rude thing for him to admit, even to himself, but even now he desperately fiddles with a loose thread, shaky, calloused fingertips pinching the thread as he struggles to put the fallen embellishment back into place. It was but a tiny gold button to his ensemble, the only thing considered formal wear within the wardrobe he had brought with him. He’s thankful Purpled at the very least didn’t raid his other necessities for the trip, although bitterness still clings to him because of his stolen jewels. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The suit in question happens to be his presidential suit, the one he’d worn during his time as leader to a now fallen nation. Obviously, the thing has seen better days- in fact he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>intended </span>
  </em>
  <span>to go to Tommy about it when the hotel had opened. Thinking back on it, he finds it a foolish thing to ask. His friend had just opened up a business, when and how would he have the time to patch up a set of dusty rags that were ready to unravel at the seams? Maybe Tommy would’ve said yes, or gotten Sam Nook to do it, but there isn’t any point now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has far greater issues than his outfit being shoddy, and Tommy was in more danger than a pricked finger from the sharp end of a sewing needle. Tubbo’s dearest friend had been corrupted by the egg, something that needs to be stopped immediately. With Bad and Ant seemingly pulling the strings behind this dastardly operation, taking care of </span>
  <em>
    <span>them </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be priority. Or at least, </span>
  <em>
    <span>second </span>
  </em>
  <span>priority. Getting through to Tommy, seeing a spark of blue in that haunting crimson stare would make his heart soar. Both of them would still have a chance to leave, to get help and avoid any customers from falling victim to the egg’s influence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once tied properly, the button rests in its original spot, albeit dangling just the slightest. Not like it’d be noticeable, considering there was plenty else to gawk at. Frayed edges on the hemline, a dark stain saturated into the left shoulder, and even a small chest pocket that had an obvious hole torn into it. A singular button being loose was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>compared to the disastrous design. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette flinches when someone bumps past him, letting out a short huff as he watches Sapnap strut past him without even so much as an apology. The older boy looks invested in a conversation with Jack, one he can’t quite catch. Either way, Tubbo ignores it, stepping back a few feet so that no one else in the lobby would bump into him. With a dusting of his dark blue slacks he looks up, scanning the area. The lobby appears empty, including the concierge desk. He holds back an audible sigh of relief, glad that Bad and Ant wouldn’t cast any suspicion into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And maybe it’s best that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>stay clear of other people, after all his bathroom had ended up being a complete disaster. He had wanted to clean himself up, given he spent all of noon sweating profusely before passing out. It would be considered grody if he milled about the hotel in clothes riddled with the scent of perspiration, even if he soon realized the hotel itself had more gross secrets than any kind of over sweating would do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To his surprise, or perhaps non-surprise, when the showerhead shook and sputtered, he saw </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>within the warm liquid. Tiny red flecks were peppered into the rushing water, the boy instantly disgusted. There was no mystery as to what this crimson was, and the fact he was going to rinse himself off in </span>
  <em>
    <span>corruption incarnate </span>
  </em>
  <span>made him nauseous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That...also didn’t help. With fatigue from fainting leaving his mind groggy and aching, he had wanted to hydrate. Except, as he should have expected, the water from the sink was no different than the shower. Tubbo never thought a sink could </span>
  <em>
    <span>mock </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, but it did. It dared him to drink from its golden chalice, to take greedily from poison until it’s source had enough power to prove at his already weary mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps he’s doomed himself even further by refusing water, only straining his mind and body further. But he won’t allow it to invade, won’t let that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>get him after what it had done to Tommy. He licks his semi-dry lips, the craving for water making its way back up. He forces it down, glancing around before swiftly making his way towards the group of people all headed in the same direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides one or two eyes on him Tubbo blends in with the crowd somewhat well. Sure his attire is nowhere near as sophisticated as some others, but the memo was that everyone had dressed formally for this event. He says nothing as he walks along with his peers, trying to pick up on any conversations worth noting. An ear flicks at the mention of the water tasting strange, but before he can pitch in he finds himself at the top of a set of grandiose stairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were long, and coated in a velveteen red, a brass railing painted a shimmering gold installed on the right of them. Light shines in from the bottom, a series of sounds assimilating into the quietly playing band. Glasses clinking, incoherent conversations folding in on one another, and above it all, a single voice carrying a melody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music was old fashioned, is how Tubbo would describe it. The tone of the song reminds him of a confession, one waiting for a response in return. As he’s halfway down, he finds something </span>
  <em>
    <span>alluring </span>
  </em>
  <span>about the voice. Nothing like an attraction, not at all, but more so </span>
  <em>
    <span>calming </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his tidal wave of nerves. He follows it, as though it were guiding him down the stairs, not needing to worry about tripping whatsoever. His ears perk up as the song grows louder the further in he goes, awe filled gasps coming from around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the latest arrivals, they slowly make their way further into the ballroom, admiring the scenery. And Tubbo didn’t want to admit it, but it’s damn good craftsmanship. Cream colored walls with quartz pillars surrounded either side, a swirling golden pattern carefully embellished onto them. The crimson carpet stretched out all across the floor, only stopping at the wooden stage. But even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>looks to </span>
  <span>be</span>
  <span> made up of warped crimson planks, dark red banners used as a backdrop for the entertainment of the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Already, those who attended the hotel were mid conversation or dancing along to the song’s melody, the scene itself looking as though it were ripped from an ancient photo. He shivers when he recalls the ending of a particular horror movie, one about a family staying at a hotel until one of them goes mad from supernatural forces and tries to slaughter those he once loved…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he can’t help but imagine Tommy befalling the same fate as the axe wielding man, forever trapped within the hotel, destroyed and buried by his </span>
  <em>
    <span>obsession </span>
  </em>
  <span>because the supernatural force did him in… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo doesn’t realize how long he’s been standing there, and only when someone asks him to politely step by does he break himself from his stupor. God, he has to stop thinking like that! Not only is it distracting, it only further pushed his fears! But just how </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>were they? What if he couldn’t break through to Tommy, couldn’t find him within the red? Would the egg be furious with him, make him a bigger target for those under its influence? Maybe he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to make some kind of progress tonight, or risk him and Tommy being trapped here for eternity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why is that anyhow? Earlier he had tried to open the doors, only to find they wouldn’t budge. They were unlocked, but when Tubbo tried to open more than a crack, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>forceful </span>
  </em>
  <span>sensation practically pushed him away from his easiest form of escape. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He isn’t  going to leave anyway, he wants to talk to Tommy, but now that there’s something </span>
  <em>
    <span>actively </span>
  </em>
  <span>keeping people from leaving was good to know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he listens closely, the teen could pick up on some of the song’s lyrics amidst the muddled voices.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have but one desire, and that one is you-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It strikes familiarity in him, but where? A memory calls back to him, one he’s certain is fabricated, but he can picture Wilbur strumming his guitar, the glow of a campfire reflecting in his spectacles as he sings along. Then it hits him, was it the lyrics that he recognized...</span>
  <em>
    <span>or the voice?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He strides closer, as if the music were pulling him in, blue gaze fixated on the stage as he tries to discern the figure from those taller than him obscuring the view. It isn’t until he’s but a yard or so away from the semi-circle stage do his eyes draw upon the person singing, left hand gripping the microphone while the right has it clenched around the stand. <br/><br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No wonder it’s so familiar.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He expected to meet Tommy here, in fact the other boy requested his presence, but he didn’t anticipate for something like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy was a flashy person, making no attempts to hide his want for attention and praise, even if he did little to nothing. And this, was certainly a way to attract those with an ear for music...except...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy doesn’t sing in front of an audience.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never, </span>
  </em>
  <span>unironically sing in front of a crowd or to </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>he doesn’t trust. And that, punctures a hole in the brunette’s heart. Out of the few people Tommy would lend his voice to, Tubbo was among them. It was usually melodies to help him fall asleep, on nights where he was frazzled and plagued with nightmares of his best friend perishing, or of him succumbing to that fate instead while he left Tommy behind to wallow and wail. Sometimes, he’d fall asleep before he even got to bed, Tommy complaining the next morning that he had to drag him around. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The egg took something sacred and private to Tommy, and used it as a means to an end.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His blood </span>
  <em>
    <span>stings, </span>
  </em>
  <span>whether it’s an icy chill or boiling </span>
  <em>
    <span>rage </span>
  </em>
  <span>that stirs inside his veins, this was only making the egg’s unacceptable actions </span>
  <em>
    <span>beyond </span>
  </em>
  <span>unacceptable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s blood </span>
  <em>
    <span>stops </span>
  </em>
  <span>this time, at least that’s what it feels like when crimson eyes meet the contrasting blue. His ears flick back in alert, Tommy not taking his eyes off his friend for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>second </span>
  </em>
  <span>as his song continues on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve lost all ambition, for worldly acclaim,”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes briefly dart back to the crowd as he finishes the chorus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I just wanna be the one you love.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those lyrics are...unsettling. Under any other circumstance, it’d be a cute song, maybe even something to perform at a fancy event such as this, but with Tommy’s predicament, there’s a sinister layer to the words that he can’t quite put his finger on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks when a hand extends out to him, palm open. Tommy’s stare is once again fixed onto the goat boy, silently offering him to stand on the stage beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I don’t…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde beckons with his free hand, somehow managing to keep up with the song even though all his attention has been put on Tubbo. Hesitantly, he reaches for Tommy’s hand, gently clasping it. And that’s all it takes for his friend’s grip to ensnare him, hauling him up onto the stage with little effort. He stumbles, shoes hitting the hollow wood before squinting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the topic of being flashy, Tommy’s outfit would fit that label. A sparkling white tux with a single red bow tie, the spotlights several meters above their heads causing the glittery attire to glitz and dazzle whenever he shifts in just the right way. Unfortunately, Tubbo couldn’t fully take it in because in the next second Tommy’s back was to him, continuing his song as if he didn’t just yank his best friend up with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That actually catches the taller boy’s attention, cupping his hand with the mic and glancing over his shoulder. “One sec Tubbo-“ is all the brunette gets before Tommy picks up where he left off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the music finally fades after another minute of singing, the stage lights dim, Tommy stepping back from the microphone to greet the other boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo!” The elation in his voice is on par with how he’d normally greet him, yet every time Tommy said his name with those gleaming red eyes, it causes him to nearly curl up into himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi…” He starts, giving his friend an extremely tense wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You had me </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>fuckin’ worried, y’know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you thought I wasn’t gonna show up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well-“ Tommy glances off to the side, and Tubbo nearly bleats at the corrupted boy for placing an elbow on his shoulder. “I mean, I figured you </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>come in case you were all unconscious and shit, but that’s the thing I was worried about!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Tubbo shows little emotion in his tone, casting his gaze to the floor. “Well uh, thank you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm.” The brunette nods a little too quickly. “All good, just a little dis- dis-orientated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The stage lights get pretty hot,” Tommy wastes no time in pointing up. “And the heat’s gone tits up outside, I-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He huffs, pulling away from his best friend. “That’s not it man,” He starts, making his way towards the small set of stairs that lead up to the stage. “I’m just-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re dance shy, are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean Tubbo-“ The boy in question tilts his head curiously at the hand Tommy wants him to take, mischief glinting in his ruby colored eyes. “I reckon you have two left feet if you’re dance shy, ey?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not “dance shy”,” The brunette pouts, gaze trained on his best friend as he takes his hand out of spite. “I don’t even know what the hell that means.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means you’re shite at dancin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then-“ Tubbo raises his chin up, silently challenging Tommy as he places his free hand on his shoulder, closing in the short space between then. He opts to ignore the crack in his voice, hoping it doesn’t reveal the twinge of nervousness to the egg. Although, he’s sure it can already sense that, it’ll search for any weakness it can get, won’t it? <em>“We’ll just see about that.”</em></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy has never heard this tune before, a melancholic waltz that surrounds the air in mystery. Tommy leads, and keeps trying to trip up Tubbo by changing his tempo on occasion. However he refuses to relent, matching his moves every step of the way. It’s that crimson colored </span>
  <em>
    <span>stare </span>
  </em>
  <span>that throws him off, and the fake softness in his smile provides no favors either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You enjoying yourself?” It almost sounds like a sneer were it not for the blonde’s condescending, timid expression. “Sorry ‘bout earlier today- Tubbo do you think the heat is out to destroy my business?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy quickly cuts him off. “Because if so, I’ll have to beat up the sun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, thats...that’s not…” The conversation sounds normal...</span>
  <em>
    <span>almost. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sure, what Tommy’s saying is outlandish and impossible, but it’s something Tommy would </span>
  <em>
    <span>normally </span>
  </em>
  <span>say on the daily. His random declarations were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so close </span>
  </em>
  <span>to being convincing, yet the lack of conviction in his voice, the nonexistent energy...it gave it away. These were things Tommy would come up with, yes, but it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>he says it that makes Tubbo narrow his eyes at him. It’s manufactured, like the egg had given him a gentle nudge to act like himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re being </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>suspicious.”</span>
</p>
<p>Tommy blinks, their dance slowing ever so slightly. “Wha- Tubbo!” He whines, tilting his head to the side and quivering his lip in an exaggerated manner. “How can you say such a thing?”</p>
<p>
  <span>The egg’s tactics aren’t working. Tommy can say </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>at this point, but the fury just itching to rise to the surface, Tubbo’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>temper, </span>
  </em>
  <span>hangs</span>
  <span> by a thread as much as a scratched up golden button does. He won’t let this </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>play mind games, or deter him from his goal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ah!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo nearly releases his hold on his friend when pain slams into his head, wincing through his teeth. It was a force of habit, second nature even, but he couldn’t help but rest his forehead on Tommy’s shoulder, a response he </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>gave whenever he had a headache. He’d playfully headbutt his friend, or rub his head against his shoulder until the pain dulled. That, or Tommy would get him some medicine so the brunette wouldn’t poke any more holes in his clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo? Tubbo, what happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hates how he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>the grin plastered on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fine.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He grunts. It felt like lifting a heavy weight, but Tubbo forces his head back up, back to face those bright red eyes that strike fear into his heart every time. The one thing keeping him from breaking apart in this waltz is his determination, to see through that he finds his best friend. Had this been the egg’s plan all along? To make him dizzy with all these ridiculous steps, going around and around while not even noticing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you su-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes Tommy,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The other boy hisses, the angered glare making Tommy stiffen just the slightest. “But what </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>fine is you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m doing just fine actually, thank you.” The response was passive, clearly trying to deflect from the topic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo doesn’t notice his grasp tighten in Tommy’s hand. He swallows, pushing back the ire stoking within him to settle for a softer approach. “And…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His final words linger as their dance comes to a halt, and the moment it does, Tubbo grips his friend’s collar to the point where his knuckles are as white as his suit. He lets his words fall through gritted teeth, not ending it with a threat, but a </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m going to rip that thing out of you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That...seems to give Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind of reaction. Shock? Hurt? It was unclear, but the boy’s expression softens when he sees his friend look at him like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He can’t help but notice how </span>
  <em>
    <span>similar </span>
  </em>
  <span>it looks to when Tubbo had sentenced him to exile, how that would be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>last </span>
  </em>
  <span>face he’d see before his friend returned a different person.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy I…” He lets go, the tension leaving his body as he tries to stammer an explanation. “I just…i-it’s uhm...it’s not-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It Is Your Fault.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh!?” In an instant, his thoughts derail from a mess of an apology. It feels like a cool breeze tickling his ear, the teen looking around frantically. “What was-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has no time to react as he’s pulled forward, a hand laced into his hair and right horn. He squirms in discomfort, just about ready to shove his friend away when something makes him freeze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a contrast to the cool breeze, warm breath making his body tingle as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>threat </span>
  </em>
  <span>comes out as a murmur.<br/><br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo doesn’t even flinch as Tommy pulls back from him, his form turning to icy stone. All he can think to do is take slow breaths, his wide eyed gaze not bothering to glance in his friend’s direction. That damned egg, doesn’t it have better things to do than torment him? The fact the warning came out from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that the egg had used him as a messenger this time… Oh how he wants to tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>it </span>
  </em>
  <span>off, to screech and holler at the thing taking control of his best friend, letting all that pent up rage finally unwind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he can’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever anger was in him subsides in place of fear, Tubbo staring off blankly at seemingly nothing. He has to get Tommy back, somehow… He won’t let this thing win, let it puppeteer him and have Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretend </span>
  </em>
  <span>like he’s in control.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi,” As if nothing had transpired, Tommy leers away from his friend, nose wrinkled in disgust. “You fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>reek, </span>
  </em>
  <span>man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No I don’t!” Tubbo squeaks, breaking out of his spiraling thoughts. He kept worrying about that the entire time since his arrival, and only </span>
  <em>
    <span>now </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy has to say something? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you forget how to use the shower?” It’s  an inconsiderate thing to say, but as far as Tommy knows, or was </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretending </span>
  </em>
  <span>to know, is that Tubbo hit his head when he fainted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop being all condescending!” The brunette adjusts his jacket, casting side glances at Tommy. If he </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>possessed, what were the chances of him making a remark about his L‘ Manberg presidential uniform? “And I didn’t forget, I just...didn’t take one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy immediately coughs into his fist at the odd statement, looking at him with wide red eyes. “Sorry, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck? </span>
  </em>
  <span>I invite you to this fancy party and shit and you don’t shower?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo rolls his eyes. “You know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>The blonde crosses his arms, stepping in front of Tubbo. “Actually, I <em>don’t </em>know why you’d skip out on a <em>shower </em>of all things.”</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay-“ He begrudgingly starts, lifting up a single finger. “First of all my hygiene is absolutely none of your business-“ A bit of a lie since he’s shared </span>
  <em>
    <span>toothbrushes </span>
  </em>
  <span>with Tommy before, but it wasn’t directed at </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“And secondly, I saw that red gunk in the water- i-in the showerhead!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure this “red gunk” you’re talking about isn’t just bits of redstone? Dunno how it could’ve gotten into your shower, but-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No Tommy,” Tubbo shakes his head, immediately shooting down his manipulative counter argument. “It’s a red fungus </span>
  <em>
    <span>growing </span>
  </em>
  <span>through the pipes in my showerhead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How the fuck did you figure that one out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh,” The goat boy rubs the back of his neck, glancing down towards the floor. He has no reason to feel embarrassed, but now that he has to reveal the </span>
  <em>
    <span>method </span>
  </em>
  <span>of his findings… “Well you see- I uh- I took an axe...and...sliced it off…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sliced off one of me fuckin’ showerheads!?” Tommy’s voice raises, disbelief painting his features. “Wh- Why!? Tubbo, actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>why?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because that red stuff was leaking and I knew it was-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His frantic explanation is cut off with a groan, the blonde eyeing the ballroom for any of his staff. “Okay, listen. When I said your suite was “on the house”, that didn’t include fuckin’ property damage!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had been </span>
  <span>one of Tubbo’s reasons. The last justification he gave himself before plunging the axe down on the metal faucet. But now, it had become invalidated, leaving him with rose tinted cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I- You-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>take care of it, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo…” He turns his head away, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering an </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh man…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>under his breath before facing </span>
  <b>
    <em>Tommy’s</em>
  </b>
  <span> friend again. “Just…. please, bathe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright fine!” The older boy flashes a petty smirk towards Tommy. “I’ll just leave the hotel real quick and-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why not?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t make it anymore obvious that he’s challenging him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because…” Tommy’s crimson eyes dart off to the side, adjusting his bow tie. “Because of the heatwave! The heatwave Tubbo, you’ll faint before you even make it to a shower!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s night, Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t mean it still can’t be hot out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” He clicks his tongue, folding his arms. “I feel like you’d tell me I’m right because “the sun is gone” so that it can’t be hot outside anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh okay mister “wants to be proven right”, why don’t you just go and-“ With a stomp of a foot, Tommy sighs, letting his sudden flare in temper fade. “Take a shower, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Or maybe a bath, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t care how you clean yourself Tubbo, just- for the love of god, get clean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You say that like I’m filthy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you- Why don’t you visit the pool!” Fake cheeriness returns to his voice, patting </span>
  <b>
    <em>Tommy’s </em>
  </b>
  <span>friend on the back. “Go for a swim, get all cleaned up, you know chlorine is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>great </span>
  </em>
  <span>substitute for shampoo- it stings whenever you get it in your eyes-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It really isn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just go, Tubbo.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to object, to try and reach out to Tommy, but the egg is playing stubborn just as he is, the blonde already trying to guide him back towards the stairs. He sighs, figuring tonight would be one of defeat, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>is </span>
  <span>far from over. “I’ll find a way out you know…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay Tubbo.” The other teen is in no mood to listen anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And-“ The goat boy glances over his shoulder to face Tommy, to look into that crimson stare without fear. He tenses when he meets them, but holds his composure. “And I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>going </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk to Tommy, the Tommy who’s probably giving </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> one hell of a fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy smiles, raising a single brow as the pair come to a stop at the bottom of the staircase. “Is he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really, </span>
  </em>
  <span>though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s eyes widen, unable to stop himself from gasping. “You just-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>With a hard shove, the boy staggers back up the first few steps, looking at Tommy in awe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks back, mouth agape. It just...admitted it. That it has </span>
  <em>
    <span>control </span>
  </em>
  <span>over his friend’s mind, that it orchestrated </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of this. Light and shadow casts on Tommy’s form, his smile, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>eyes </span>
  </em>
  <span>never leaving Tubbo, eagerly waiting for him to ascend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t try and tell me this was all a bad dream the next day.” He says sternly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But what if it is?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo pries himself from even entertaining the idea, heading back up the carpeted set of stairs, fully knowing there’s still a set of eyes on him. It isn’t until he makes it to the top, where the music is nonexistent, did he breathe in the frigid air. It’s rather hot down there, that or the intensity of the night, albeit short, had his temperature rising. He scopes the empty lobby, passing by the few dim lights and towards the right hall. There’s a hall opposite in between the lounge, the dining area on that specific side. But the one Tubbo was strolling down, is where the pool rested at the very end and to his left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels there could be a trap here too, because if Tubbo’s water supply from the bathroom has been tainted, how did he know the same isn’t within the entire hotel’s waterline? But he can’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>shower, and given that one of the staff members did </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to ensure nobody could leave until their stay was up, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get clean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe the pool has a locker room? There could be showers there, ones that he hopes aren’t tainted. It’s better than bathing in the pool and having a mess of hair to deal with in the morning. And who knows, maybe he’d have time to think of a way to properly get through to Tommy considering the dance was a bust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seconds before he reaches the door, two figures zip by, having come from the pool. It was too difficult to tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>though as they were in the hotel’s stairwell seconds after, although he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>spot that the carpet was stained with wet foot and hoof prints.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <em>“Give me back my shit, Techno!”</em>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A loud, boisterous laugh bellows from the stairwell, echoing back as if it were joining in with the pig man. “Come and get it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>loser!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need my swim trunks you fucking son of a bitch!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only a handful of people didn’t attend the party, reasons varying from other plans to outright forgetfulness. It could be argued that Techno’s pursuer is under the influence, thus forgetting about the event, while the bipedal pig with a set of bright orange swim trunks dangling from one of the prongs of his trident simply did not wish to attend whatsoever. Nobody said it was mandatory, so why not relax in the jacuzzi for a bit?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, the night </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>relaxing, until someone in particular showed up to the pool with a vendetta.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now Techno tosses an ender pearl halfway down the stairwell seconds before Quackity reaches him. The young man doesn’t even get to grab him before his form vanishes before his very eyes, only to catch movement from down below. Gripping the railing he peers down the seemingly endless abyss of stairs that merge into a square pit of darkness, the contents at the bottom unknown. What he </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>know, is that Techno has traveled at least three flights down, swaying the trident back and forth, the swimwear waving like a flag. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He recognizes the taunt, Techno’s smirk proving that he’s fully willing to carry on in this chase just to humiliate one of his foes. Quackity grits his teeth, adjusting the temporary set of undergarments- his own </span>
  <em>
    <span>beanie </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he had to tear holes into for his legs. It’s tight and uncomfortable, the fabric riding against his skin every time he moves. But something like that isn’t going to stop him from getting his clothes back, and more so </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>let Technoblade have another victory hang over his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Technoblade waits for Quackity to rush down the flights of stairs, for him to be exhausted and low on hunger before he’d toss another pearl. That is, until his narrow eyes widen in curiosity as the shorter of the two leaps from the railings. There’s a resounding </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack </span>
  </em>
  <span>as Quackity hits the cement, the boy’s face twisting into agony before he clutches his stomach, curling up to try and shake off the pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know those railings are there for a reason, right?” There was no doubt Quackity took fall damage from that daring stunt, leaving Techno unconcerned about him getting back up in a timely manner. He strides further down the stairs, waving him off with a three toed hoof. “I’ll catch you later, and you know- maybe I’ll get you to buy these off of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re-“ The dark haired boy gasps, wincing as he uses his scraped arms to push himself back up. He leans against the cool wall, having no choice in order to keep himself up. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>My </span>
  </em>
  <span>swim trunks!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you even want them so badly?” Techno turns around to face his adversary, his form half buried in shadow. They were near the bottom of the stairwell, leading to who knows where. Probably the boiler room, if Techno had to guess. He doesn’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>about why Quackity values the article of clothing so much, maybe because he had to resort to using his beanie to cover himself, but the impending chase was still giving him a fine dose of entertainment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a mild limp, Quackity staggers over to the pig, his foot dragging ever so slightly with each step. He can feel a new brush of pain each time he moves, but like hell he was leaving without those trunks. “None of your </span>
  <em>
    <span>goddamn </span>
  </em>
  <span>business”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” With a shrug, Techno tosses another pearl, although he doesn’t have to throw it very far. Another flight and a half and he’s at the bottom of the stairwell, the only light being that of a beaming crimson lightbulb dangling from above.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snorts when he hears distant cussing in Spanish, at least from the inflection in Quackity’s tone he believes it to be cussing. He doesn’t mind the red light, in fact the small amount of warmth it emanates brings back “fond” memories. Being bathed in blood, thousands of disorganized voices merging into a harmonized choir as their quota for bloodshed is filled… Maybe he can fight Quackity if the other boy is that determined…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tech….no….” Quackity slumps on the bottom step, chest heaving and form dripping in chlorinated water just as Technoblade is. Dark eyes flickering with </span>
  <em>
    <span>rage </span>
  </em>
  <span>pierce Techno’s, the pig completely unphased. “Techno-“ He pauses to swallow, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>catch his breath. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Give me back...my swim trunks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been saying that a lot-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because I want them back!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>What else is there to even say? His demands were made clear, yet Techno wants to continue this ridiculous game just to </span>
  <em>
    <span>spite </span>
  </em>
  <span>the young man. He leaps to his feet, ignoring the shattering pain in his ankle as he points a finger to his rival. “You know what I’m going to do Technoblade?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess y-“</span>
</p>
<p>“I’m going to file a complaint!” The dark haired boy’s hands fall onto his hips, a half playful smirk forming at the corners of his lips. “That’s right motherfucker you’re about to get tried for a hate crime!”</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno holds back a deep laugh. “Q-Quackity this is the </span>
  <em>
    <span>farthest </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing from a hate crime- the first time I gave you that pickaxe scar wasn’t even a hate crime. I mean this is- what’s your goal here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No no no,” He avoids Techno’s question, shaking his head firmly. “You’re gonna go to jail unless you give me my swim trunks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that threat in mind, the taller figure seems to ponder something, before shrugging. “Eh, I mean if I’m discriminating against you for anything it’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>complete </span>
  </em>
  <span>height disadvantage.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What the fuck!?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Quackity weakly reaches a hand out as Techno wields his trident high above his head, swim trunks dangling from the prong. Every time he tries to jump, the trident is only raised higher, and when Quackity tries to </span>
  <em>
    <span>shove </span>
  </em>
  <span>Techno, he’s met with a harder shove, stumbling back. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking short you’re just not fucking human so you think I’m super short!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t Tommy taller than you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I feel like that’s a lie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s literally no-'' Quackity stops dead in his sentence, eyes wandering towards a door behind Technoblade. He didn’t pay the red light much mind earlier, figuring it’s warmth is just a small form of comfort to his shivering form, but now it gave off a more </span>
  <em>
    <span>ominous </span>
  </em>
  <span>sensation, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>because of Techno.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm, Quackity?” He’s immensely surprised when the boy in question steps past him, as though their altercation had lost all meaning. Now he drifts, slowly inching towards the door that has just a crack open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Intaking a shaky breath, cold, wet fingers grip the firm metal, flinching as something </span>
  <em>
    <span>soft </span>
  </em>
  <span>gives beneath his fingertips. A blast of humid air envelops the two as the door is pried open, revealing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>crimson jungle </span>
  </em>
  <span>within.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vines dip and curve along the floors and walls, red, mossy peat settling just below them. That, among an entire array of crimson plant life encases the room, a soft yellow light flickering rhythmically from deep within.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that sound?” The shorter boy finally murmurs, picking up on the strange occurrence. He mistook it for his own rapidly beating heart, worn from chasing down Techno. Blood had been roaring in his ears, but now that it settles, he finds an even </span>
  <em>
    <span>louder </span>
  </em>
  <span>heartbeat coming from within the horrific room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the sound of us leaving-“ Technoblade is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to deal with this. Besides, the sign on the door had said “employees only”, and while he isn’t one for respecting authority, putting two and two together is simple enough. “Because whoever </span>
  <em>
    <span>finds us </span>
  </em>
  <span>down here is going to lock us in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know that,” Quackity hisses, peering further into the room. Cautiously, he takes a step inside, disgust forming on his face as his foot sinks into the moss. It’s temporary, quickly getting used to the sensation even if it’s rather uncomfortable. But right now, there’s a more pressing matter. “And what are you? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Afraid?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno narrows his eyes, peeling the swim trunks off from the trident and letting them fall to the floor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Is that a challenge?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I’m in here, and you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not, </span>
  </em>
  <span>so-“ He chuckles with a shrug, stepping further in. “Oh sick!” He cries, attention set on the grotesque </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>resting on the far wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a series of tiny, branching vines extending from a large red bump protruding against the wall’s flat surface, pulsing and </span>
  <em>
    <span>throbbing </span>
  </em>
  <span>every other second. A warm glow emits from it, the light moving in time with the beat of...whatever it was. It was the same color as the rest of the room but...something about it stands out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Techno reaches his side, Quackity has his mouth covered, seconds away from gagging. “So what did you- Oh.” The sight was indeed repulsive, but between the pair, one of them has more of an iron stomach than the other. “I mean- that’s just- that’s just nasty. And right below the hotel? I mean come on, that’s just unsafe practice!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now really-“ Quackity pauses to swallow the bile rising in his throat, the scent of dirt and warm air no longer tolerable. “-isn’t the time for you to be a cynical!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then let’s go!” The pig huffs, ready to drag the other boy out of this infested room. He adores a good chase, and a fight proceeding it, but this? They’re so far out of their element, and while he could take on these vines another day, being in its domain while in such a vulnerable state heavily affects his chances. “You’re swim trunks are-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The loud metal slam makes both of them flinch, Techno being the first to turn around.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Gentlemen.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno responds just as flatly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tommy.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Relief floods the young man’s voice as he whirls around to face his friend. “Oh, Tommy!” His laugh dies halfway through, smile falling when he notices the crimson eyes </span>
  <em>
    <span>aren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>a trick of the light. “...Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘ow do?” The young boy adjusts his red bow tie, having just left the ballroom going on above. His hands are folded neatly in front of him, a polite, </span>
  <em>
    <span>eerie </span>
  </em>
  <span>smile on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa whoa whoa, wait-“ Quackity just barely reacts to Technoblade raising his trident, directly aimed at Tommy and intentions clear. But before he can smack it out of his hands, </span>
  <em>
    <span>something else </span>
  </em>
  <span>grips the opposite end, the weapon slipping from the pig’s grip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I’m gonna need that back,” In contrast to Quackity’s rising fear, Techno keeps his voice flat as his trident is ensnared by writhing vines, the crimson carrying it off to an unknown location. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm Techno, I...I think we should </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He casts a nervous gaze from Techno to Tommy, silently </span>
  <em>
    <span>praying </span>
  </em>
  <span>that the worst hasn’t happened to his friend. “R-Right, Tommy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Leave?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The blonde tilts his head, as if he took offense to the word itself. “Why would you want to leave?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not like- the hotel or anything!” The young man quickly clears his throat, only to break into a coughing fit. He...</span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>regrets jumping down several flights of stairs just to catch up to Technoblade. “Just here! Only here! We can all go back to our rooms, and we can-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But here is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Big Q!” Tommy can see that the nickname makes the boy in question visibly shiver, stepping closer to the pair. “Don’t you- Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear it? </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s promising you all </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorts </span>
  </em>
  <span>of things, my friend!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, please just...please just let us go-“ He pays no mind to Techno stepping away from the two, his attempt to mask his nervousness now crumbling into genuine fear. He instinctively backs away from Tommy as he draws in closer, his smile remaining the same- is he even blinking</span>
  <em>
    <span>? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He yelps when he trips over something, pain once again striking into him. A sensation to that of hot needles sprawl along his back, his ankle burning as the tender spot is gripped tightly by a crimson vine. “No no no no no-“ He mutters, more of the thick strings latching onto his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno on the other hand, calmly makes his way towards the door, ignoring Quackity’s protests and pleas for help. If he becomes egg food, so be it, if he becomes one of those mindless husks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so be it. </span>
  </em>
  <span>As long as </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>isn’t affected by any of this, then he could continue on. Well, he’ll need his trident back, and after tonight’s little mishap he doubts Quackity will want to help even with a life debt, so a quiet exit it is.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is until vines burst from the moss, gripping the bipedal pig’s wrists and ankles. He lets out a gruff snort, tugging and resisting against the crimson, all while Tommy watches with a gleaming stare. He catches it, the vines beginning to dig into his leathery pink skin, having no choice but to be forced upon his knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think this means I’m at your mercy?” Despite his predicament, along with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mild </span>
  </em>
  <span>concern that Quackity’s screams were becoming muffled and quiet, Technoblade still fights against the series of vines wrapping around him. They curl and squeeze against him, heart racing when one threateningly snakes it’s way around his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Techno.” Tommy answers simply, taking slow, methodical steps until he’s in front of Techno, glowering above him. “I don’t need you at my mercy to know I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>above </span>
  </em>
  <span>you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno shrugs. “In a literal sense-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Quiet!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>It comes out as a loud bark, one that makes Techno freeze. He considers Tommy a lot of things, and in his time the boy had spent with him he supposes there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>useful qualities to be found with him, but someone who can </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimidate </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? <em>Never.</em> At least, not until this point. The command is visceral, his smile turning into a sharp grin after the word left his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno I….” He lets out a slow, breathy laugh, drinking in his triumph over the man who took part in </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroying his home and killing his best friend multiple times. He can hear the egg now, the sweet nothings it promises, the taste of true glory coated in crimson. <br/><br/></span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m more powerful than you will ever be.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright I get it Tommy-“ Tehcno rolls his eyes, having stopped trying to fight against the vines. Surely he’ll just go on a tangent and then let him go, if all he wants is to give some heroic revenge speech. “That egg thing made you “more powerful” than me, I-I think I’ve gotten the memo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh even without the egg I’m still more powerful thank you-“ Tommy pauses to quickly add, “Not that I <em>don’t</em> need the egg of course I mean this thing is </span>
  <em>
    <span>powerful.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’re you...trying to do here? I mean the hotel stuff I get, but you’re taking a lot of this out on me right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See Techno, here’s the interesting thing and- and the egg </span>
  <em>
    <span>told me </span>
  </em>
  <span>this- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>more powerful than you.” Tommy declares it with such </span>
  <em>
    <span>fact </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>vigor </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he believes it himself. “I knocked Dream down to his last life and you want to know why?” He leans forward, face inches from Techno’s, nearly trembling in delight in knowing that Techno </span>
  <em>
    <span>so badly </span>
  </em>
  <span>wants to punch his sinister grin in. “It’s because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t kill me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno opens his mouth to retort, but Tommy snaps his head back up, pacing back and forth as he continues.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You on the other hand? Oh, he’d put an axe in your back the <em>second</em> it’d benefit him.” Something in Tommy’s demeanor changes, speaking with a scowl before his expression goes right back to gleeful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You talk about loyalty then side with one of the most untrustworthy people on the smp. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And don’t get me </span>
  <em>
    <span>started</span>
  </em>
  <span> on you saying how “power corrupts” when- I mean just take a </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>at yourself mate. “</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you would-“ Techno grunts as he tries to knock a vine loose by moving his shoulder, only for its grip to tighten. He swallows hard when something breaks through his skin, easily able to pick up the coppery scent above the musty air. “Let me </span>
  <em>
    <span>respond-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I mean poor Tubbo-“ At this point, Tommy isn’t even entertaining Techno’s chance at a turn. “He thinks I’ve gone all wonky cause of Bad and Ant,” He turns his head back to the pig, recalling how poorly he’s treated his friend during past incidents. “When they’re the ones that came to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>They wanted their precious fuckin’ egg piece back and I was like “No.” And then you see Techno they- they threatened me but now we’ve come up with a compromise!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“T-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In an instant, Tommy switches the subject back onto him, leering down once more. For once, Techno lets out a sharp inhale when something drills itself further into his wound, indicating his pain to Tommy. The vine beneath his neck forces his chin up, having no choice but to face the boy in his wild, carmine colored gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But <em>now</em> Technoblade, you’re going to know what it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>like to not be in control. You thought you were used in Pogtopia?” A deep, unrecognizable chuckle leaves the possessed boy. “Well, the egg needs to use every </span>
  <em>
    <span>drop of </span>
  </em>
  <span>power you have. Which is why I- </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span> need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>use you.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So, let’s get you two acquainted then, shall we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And in mere seconds, Techno’s world turns a shade of bloody crimson. <br/></span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!! Sorry this chapter came out a bit late I was working on it and then Tommy’s March 1st stream happened. I was...not in a good headspace about it and lost any motivation or will to write but now he’s back so I’m back!! Just wanted to say thank you again for all your love and support and I hope you’re having a good day!! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span><br/>Why did he listen to Tommy?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The question rings inside Tubbo’s fog drenched head as he stares on blankly, leaning against Ranboo for support. Thankfully he’s one of the few who haven’t been infected within the span of a single night, but the taller boy clearly doesn’t know how to handle one dealing with stomach pangs. The brunette hasn’t eaten since he checked in, knowing the food to be tainted with traces of the egg. And now, Ranboo keeps his friend steady, having found him near unconscious in the halls and slumped against the wall. Tubbo didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean </span>
  </em>
  <span>to frighten the enderman, but from his groggy demeanor and messy hair, he may have- and still, looks off putting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He mutters another thanks under his breath, tilting his head to the side feeling as though there was a hefty weight loaded within it. It’s too much energy to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>and collect his bearings, especially not while the scent of sizzling food tempts his empty stomach and nearly empty mind. He keeps making fervent glances to the small rectangular window that partially shows the kitchen, the smell of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>cooking becoming more and more pungent. A single glance at the buffet table at the opposite side revealed it to be a no-go either, a variety of fruits and salty snacks set on display. Several hot trays full of dishes Tubbo didn’t recognize stay separated in their metal containers, each having a complimentary set of tongs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s when Niki approaches the buffet table does he realize the food here is </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>poisoned. An unsurprising revelation, unlike Niki’s now fiery red hair that once happened to be a soft shade of pink. He can’t help but groan, whether it be from the harsh reality of the fact that practically all the people in this room are infected, or the harsh growl emitting from his stomach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re...</span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can’t just eat something?” Ranboo tilts his head ever so slightly, a set of heterochromatic eyes looking down on his good friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dull blue eyes with darkened rings beneath them stare back, the brunette limply shaking his head. “N-No…” He swallows out, managing to keep the determined </span>
  <em>
    <span>stubbornness </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his voice much to Ranboo’s surprise. “No I...c...can’t-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo, I-“ His clawed hand gently scratches the back of his neck, the hybrid searching for some kind of answer. He can’t just watch his friend actively wither away like this, silently cursing all this tainted food. He’ll admit, there are pleasant scents wafting within the air, even if Ranboo isn’t too big on meat. More of a personal preference than anything, not that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>eat it if offered. “Wait...it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>the food in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hotel</span>
  </em>
  <span> you can’t eat, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” A dejected sigh escapes him in the form of an answer, Tubbo resting an elbow on the round table with his chin in hand. His eyes dart along the series of tables covered in white cloth, some guests sitting while others tend to the buffet. He’s surprised how active it is given the main course isn’t even complete yet, a mystery even he doesn’t know. It should be ready any minute if he has to guess, but what does it matter? He can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>eat </span>
  </em>
  <span>whatever delicacy awaits the dining hall, the thought making him wince along with a sharp hunger pang to match. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucking in a breath, the brunette clutches his stomach, leering over the table and cursing through gritted teeth. He feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>empty, that if he keeps this up his stomach will </span>
  <em>
    <span>eat </span>
  </em>
  <span>at itself. Straining to lift his head that now feels like solid metal, his bleary vision rests upon the food. He doesn’t notice the tremble in his legs at the sight of it, nor the water filling his dry mouth. What if he...has </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>piece of food? Something as small as fruit surely won’t affect him, right? That can’t possibly instantaneously infect him, will it? Then again, if that’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing in his stomach…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo whines loudly to snap himself out of temptation, the silverware clinking when he buries his head against the table’s surface. A surprised sound leaves Ranboo, stepping out of his seat to examine the hunger stricken boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo?” His thin tail curves curiously, a claw nudging the brunette’s back. All he receives is another low, miserable groan, the enderman blinking from the reaction. He can’t let this unfold anymore, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>to help him! “Tubbo I- I’m going to get you something to eat!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-not going to work.” Is all that’s audible from his muffled voice, not bothering to lift his head for Ranboo’s sake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No- I’ll-“ He takes in a shaky breath, nervously glancing to any patrons- any gleaming red eyes that happen to be staring at the duo. When he finds that they’re more focused on getting a good meal than anything, Ranboo finishes. “I’ll get you something! I promise! You just- you </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>keep at this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can-“ There’s more indistinct muffling from Tubbo. “-whatever I want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not if it means starving!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s ears barely lift themselves at the sound of an audible hum followed by a soft pop, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>zip </span>
  </em>
  <span>leaving as soon as it came to be. There’s an odd stiffness in the air, the boy surprised he could even tell. He can’t put his finger on it, but something seems off- well, off as in from </span>
  <em>
    <span>the rest </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the hotel. Only now is he reminded of the dread he’s been feeling since last night, and how his constant hunger overshadows that sensation. Maybe that’s why he’s tempted to crawl his way over to the table and give himself a proper meal, and risk-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette’s head jerks up as another loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>hum </span>
  </em>
  <span>fills his ears, jerking up straight in his seat. His darkened eyes glance around the area, trying to locate its source. Given his table at the far corner of the room, he has quite the expansive view. It’s a shame that it isn’t all that </span>
  <em>
    <span>pleasant, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo’s brain racking to push back the black spots flooding his vision so that he can see the figures milling about, some looking more on edge than others. When he sees bright purple sparkles dance in his vision however, he turns around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo offers an awkward, fanged smile in return, a series of items piled in his arms. “Oh-kay,” In a huff, he swiftly sets his findings down on the table, more specifically, Tubbo’s plate. “There wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>much, but I-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ranboo?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo looks from the half loaf of bread on his plate to his friend, watching with furrowed brows as more is passed onto it. He wants to ask how he found this food, how he managed to teleport from his hotel room and back down here, but another cramp in his stomach distracts him. Finally, he’s being presented with something he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>eat. </span>
  </em>
  <span>At least, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopes </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s able to eat. After being denied for hours, constantly tempted by anything and everything, he has edible food. He merely brushes off his question in favor of taking a large bite from the semi-fresh bread, another growl leaving him now that his hunger is satisfied for the time being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t know you brought food with you-“ He mumbles through a mouth full of bread, casually looking over the other contents Ranboo graciously donated for his friend’s sake. He swallows hard, eyes meeting Ranboo’s once again, speaking with a relieved sigh. “Thanks so much, mate.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh it’s fine!” Ranboo perks up at the thanks, his eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s as if he’s surprised to even be given such praise. A small chuckle leaves him, concern wavering from his mind while his friend eats. He hisses through his teeth when the bucket of milk nearly topples over, Ranboo steadying it with his hands. “But I uhm-“ He smacks his dry lips, quickly clearing his throat as his now slitted gaze darts nervously to the side. “I didn’t...get this from my hotel room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette pauses just as he’s about to reach for the single slice of pumpkin pie, eyes widening. There’s visible discomfort in Ranboo’s stance, the taller boy cautiously moving his hands away from the cold metal, refusing to look Tubbo in the eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> you didn’t get this from your room?” His heart lurches, shaky gaze settling down towards the soft loaf he had been indulging in seconds ago. His grip on it tightens, turning the confection over and peering into the soft, airy inside, inspecting it for any </span>
  <em>
    <span>trace </span>
  </em>
  <span>of minuscule red spores. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Upon the goat boy’s frantic search, Ranboo quickly clarifies, mostly to ease </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>their nerves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No no! It’s not from here- I got it from Snowchester!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo stops.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“S….Snowchester…?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Ranboo doesn’t know why Tubbo is eyeing him as though he just grew a second head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that’s….” Now that he thinks about it, the food is particularly cold. Not freezing, but colder from the rest of the hotel’s usual temperature, even the three baked potatoes wrapped in tin foil which were meant to be warm are slightly cool. The milk however, was near freezing, at least the bucket is. This food has been stored away somewhere, somewhere with a particularly </span>
  <em>
    <span>snowy </span>
  </em>
  <span>climate in order for it to lose some of its warmth. “Ranboo that’s not possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie-“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>There is a near growl in Tubbo’s voice, catching the enderman off guard. A hurt expression falls upon Ranboo, the boy clearly stunned at the other’s words. Tubbo holds his harsh glare before it softens, unable to hold such an intense expression in front of wide, frightened eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m...I-I’m not lying </span>
  <em>
    <span>I went to Snowchester!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“How!?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The brunette’s voice raises again, this time attracting attention of two nearby patrons- Karl and George. Except...their gazes were blank, </span>
  <em>
    <span>crimson. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Barely any trace of emotion can be found as the pair look on before exchanging a glance and shuffling off, their wardrobe having turned red where any spot of color once shone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“How?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ranboo repeats in a hushed whisper, leaning in closer to Tubbo so that prying eyes wouldn’t intrude on their conversation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Did you not just see me teleport?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You teleported all the way to Snowchester and back?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tubbo has to admit that is rather impressive, but before he can add another compliment he blinks, reeling from Ranboo’s statement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Ranboo the doors are enchanted- nobody can leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can.” The enderman’s voice goes back to normal as soon as their conversation does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo sputters. “Y- I...Wha…?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo can...</span>
  <em>
    <span>teleport...outside of the hotel….and back….<br/><br/></span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Ranboo has the time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s suddenly inches away from Tubbo’s face, immediately averting his gaze from the intense blue stare whose owner had grabbed him by the sides of his jacket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ranboo I have….” Tubbo let’s out a shaky laugh, only making the other boy more nervous. “I have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>stuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>here without food or bath and my </span>
  <em>
    <span>best friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>has been </span>
  <em>
    <span>gaslighting me </span>
  </em>
  <span>for his stupid egg cult….Ranboo I...I swear to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking god-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo! Tubbo- I, did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>know you were having this much trouble I just thought that-“ Ranboo swallows hard, fighting back the urge to let out a warning growl. Already he could feel his hands begin to tremble, and if Tubbo keeps staring him down his whole body would vibrate. He’s only ever unhinged his jaw once or twice, but here he could feel the joints begin to loosen, threatening to crack and pop just to intimidate his friend into backing off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he remembers that Tubbo hasn’t been eating, that his friends are being corrupted right before his very eyes, and that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>is one of the few lifelines he has left. But that isn’t an excuse to take his anger out on him! Not that he appears to be, but the aggressive gesture certainly isn’t calming Ranboo’s nerves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you </span>
  <em>
    <span>let go of me</span>
  </em>
  <span> I can explain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You better!” Tubbo finally pulls off his friend, the enderman leering back and dusting off his jacket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>strong grip- Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>god, </span>
  </em>
  <span>how’d you even do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just tell me how you can teleport, man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo gives him a befuddled look, tilting his head as a confused noise leaves his throat. “I’m an-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’re an enderman.” Tubbo buries his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes and clenching his bangs with tight fists. “How can you teleport out of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hotel </span>
  </em>
  <span>is what I meant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Ranboo clicks his tongue, drumming his claws along the round, cloth covered table. “Right I uh… I don’t know, actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t know?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No Tubbo, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>promise you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I-I don’t.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well-“ Tubbo shrugs, picking up a fork and prodding at the pumpkin pie. “I guess it doesn’t matter how, but…” He turns his head back towards Ranboo, aggressively stabbing the utensil into the pastry with an oh so polite smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I smell like I’ve sat in the jacuzzi with boiled fish, Ranboo.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can uh- get you some clean water?” Perhaps it’s some kind of otherworldly intervention that ensured Ranboo never went near the showers, given his predicament. He’s been accommodated well enough so that he’s able to shower </span>
  <em>
    <span>without </span>
  </em>
  <span>being doused in water, but from Tubbo’s ramblings, as well as the mind controlled guests, something is most </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the pipes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can’t take a shower right now, can I?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The brunette harshly takes a bite from the spice filled confection.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I meant after!” Ranboo retorts with a roll of his eyes, just thankful that his friend is at least eating, even if there’s an attitude present. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what I’ve realized Ranboo- And it’s quite interesting-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” The boy in question can see a spark return in Tubbo’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re-“ He stops to swallow his bite, the sweet flavor helping quell his appetite. “You’re one of those things!” Ecstaticness reaches his voice, the goat boy almost slamming his hands on the table at the revelation. “Like- Like the things in those movies! The Egg McMuffin!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Concern laces Ranboo’s voice. “Tubbo that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>what it’s called-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god-“ A disbelieving chuckle falls from his lips, smile widening as his anger falls to the wayside. “Oh my god! Ranboo, we’re-“ </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where the fuck is he?“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pair’s heads turn at the sound of an older voice, wooden sandals aggressively pacing along the carpeted floor. When they spot a tall blonde in a set of green robes- a sight that is honestly a comforting contrast to the red riddled guests- they both tense, although for different reasons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno, and by extension, Philza, has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>vendetta </span>
  </em>
  <span>against Tubbo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Ranboo, is blatantly fraternizing with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>enemy</span>
  </em>
  <span> of those he happens to be living with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the man doesn’t seem to notice- maybe not even </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>as a set of calloused hands reach the opposite end of their table, his hair a mess beneath his striped hat and eyes surrounded by darkened rings- more than they usually were.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>either </span>
  </em>
  <span>of you know where Techno is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo and Ranboo exchange a look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Phil snaps, casting his nervous gaze onto the shorter teen. “He didn’t come back to our room- h-he’s been gone all fuckin’ night!” He clears his throat in an attempt to deflect the obvious panic in his tone. “I need to know- did one of you </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? This morning or last night- just- if he went </span>
  <em>
    <span>anywhere </span>
  </em>
  <span>or in </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind of direction I need to...I need to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo bites his tongue, forcing back the urge to say a cynical line about how Techno would never come near him given how much the pig man </span>
  <em>
    <span>loathes </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. But...seeing the man so disheveled, a stoic figure now crumbling before their very eyes...it’s an unsettling image. Not to mention he can resonate with said paranoia, not knowing who will become infected within the next day or very minutes. He can’t say he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen </span>
  </em>
  <span>Techno, but those wet foot and hoof prints ring back to his no longer dreary mind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He parts his mouth, ready to respond.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He helped Dream destroy L’manberg.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His </span>
  <em>
    <span>home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his </span>
  <em>
    <span>work, his livelihood. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And for what? Because they didn’t like how they ran things? Because these oh so powerful people managed to be manipulated by that </span>
  <em>
    <span>green bastard </span>
  </em>
  <span>who has it out for him and Tommy? Tubbo could blame himself for the nation’s fall- which, under his leadership, he kind of feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>obligated </span>
  </em>
  <span>to take part of said blame, along with being swindled into exiling his best friend...</span>
  <em>
    <span>nearly sending him to his own death, only to just get him back and to be taken control of by some vile parasite…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All because L’manberg got blown to smithereens.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>All because of Techno and Phil.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>All because of Dream.</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His response to that should be that it’s alright, that he was conned by Dream too, but what they did was a plan of petty vengeance, of trying to be against tyranny by </span>
  <em>
    <span>siding </span>
  </em>
  <span>with a tyrant. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo is but a mere child, two grown men should know better.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t say that I have!” Tubbo finally answers, cocking his head to the side and grinning in the fakest way possible. This earns a confused look from Phil, before it quickly forms into a scowl when Tubbo adds, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Not that I’d tell you.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo!” Ranboo glances between the two, utterly stunned at his cruel reply. An anxious chirrup forces its way from his throat as his focus is put back on the pale blonde, Phil leaning forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo I swear to god I don’t have time for your petty shit-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Petty?” Tubbo picks away at the remains of his pumpkin pie slice. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>one to talk about </span>
  <em>
    <span>petty.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo </span>
  <em>
    <span>please!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The sudden shout makes the two boys flinch, their attention now set on the desperate man. “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>know this place is scuffed as shit- I don’t know what Tommy’s got goin’ on in this shithole but neither me or Techno are getting involved.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why’d you come here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because we </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t know </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’d be running a fuckin’ cult!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you guys stop!?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo rises from his seat, his change in demeanor putting the argument to a screeching halt. His tail lashes back and forth, pupils nothing more than pinpricks as he stares between the two. “Phil, where’d you last see Techno? Tubbo-“ He snaps his head towards the now scared brunette, the enderman vibrating in oncoming </span>
  <em>
    <span>rage. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>the time to be doing this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence hangs in the air between the trio, not a single one of them daring to make a move. That is, until the winged man slinks back from the teen, lowering his head and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I saw him-“ A defeated sigh makes itself present. “The </span>
  <em>
    <span>last </span>
  </em>
  <span>time I saw him was at the pool last night. I mean- I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>him at the pool I just knew that’s where he was headed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I saw some wet hoof prints leading from the pool to the stairwell.” It’s barely a mutter, but it’s enough for Philza to lift his head, surprise lighting his features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You went to the pool?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did-“ He casts one more glance to Ranboo, being met with an uncharacteristic stern glare. “I saw two people rush out of the pool, but I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>who. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I saw the prints on the carpet before I entered though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why the fuck didn’t you go after him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean!?” Tubbo squeaks, ears flicking back angrily. “What- What you want me to go and do a wellness check on someone who wants me dead!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-“ Philza rolls his eyes, unable to think of a retort. He can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>deny </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Tubbo wouldn’t be anywhere near inclined to speak to Techno, let alone be in his presence. But his one lead has wound to a dead end. “Did he go up or down?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was in there before I could see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Philza mutters a string of curses under his breath. “Okay...did you see who he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>with?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you interrogating me?” The teen squirms in his seat, the pressing questions becoming far too abundant for someone who just woke up and spent the past day and a half hungry and in need of a shower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo, for the love of god, just...try and work with me here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Philza Minecraft I do feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>incredibly </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry for you-“ The flatness of his tone betrays said sincerity. “But I would really like to enjoy my breakfast now that it’s not filled with egg spores so could you-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>lunch</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tubbo.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy stiffens, looking up from his menagerie of a meal. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t know?” Ranboo shoots his friend a concerned look. “It...It’s noon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>like noon!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When did you wake up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” His answer falls short, soft blue eyes shifting to the ground. He woke up at his normal time, hadn’t he? He didn’t have a clock in his room to tell, but from the sun shining through his blinds he thought it to be early morning. But...it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>particularly hot out, isn’t it? A massive heatwave like this is sure to make the sun shine brighter than it usually would if it were later in the day. He falls silent, letting his fork rest on his plate with a gentle clink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo?” Phil, realizing he’s not going to get anymore answers out of the goat boy, turns to Ranboo. “What’s his deal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He...hasn’t been eating anything from the hotel. At all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For once in their conversation, Phil’s expression softens. “Jesus…” He understands </span>
  <em>
    <span>why, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the food is most definitely infected with the egg, but to starve like that? It’s almost been two days since they’ve been here! “But he’s...eating it now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh no-“ The enderman quickly explains. “I- For </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>reason I can- I can teleport out and back in...from the hotel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can leave!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The slamming of the table snaps Tubbo out of his thousand yard stare, looking up at the shocked man. Ranboo hushes him, raising a clawed finger to his own lips to indicate for the older man to quiet down. “Yes.” He whispers, frantically peering behind him. “But don’t go </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming </span>
  </em>
  <span>it out loud since half the people in this room are with the egg now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, they’re not being very subtle about it.” If the red eyes weren’t a dead giveaway then the change in clothes </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>is. It leaves the man a little on edge, something he’s hard to admit, but at one point or another guests would start to notice him actively keeping his damaged wings away from infected guests, even if he had to twist and fold them at odd angles. “Which is also why we have to find Techno, I don’t want any of em-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A loud metallic clang from the kitchen makes everyone in the room pause from eating, eyes set on the rectangular window. That’s when a friendly, familiar face approaches, a chef’s hat perched on top of the raccoon mask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>“WORRY NOT!” </b>
  <span>Sam Nook waves his spatula to the crowd, a smile plastered on his face. </span>
  <b>“INNIT CAFE IS EXPERIENCE MILD DIFFICULTIES IN THE KITCHEN, BUT WILL BE RESOLVED SHORTLY. PLEASE SIT TIGHT WHILE WE PREPARE THE FINAL TOUCHES ON THE MAIN COURSE.”</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that...good?” By now Tubbo has grown used to the scent of cooking meat in the air, more concerned with indulging himself in the food laid out before him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo offers a reply. “Maybe? Kind of hard to tell…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m gonna go ask Sam about Techno-“ The winged man steps back from the table, sights set on the kitchen window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why Sam?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because-“ Phil just barely looks over his shoulder at Tubbo. “I’m pretty sure he’s the only staff member that </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>infected. I dunno why he’s working for Tommy still, but…” He doesn’t entertain to finish for them, simply strutting off and adjusting his lavish robe as he makes his way to the other side of the dining room. If anyone knows of Techno’s last whereabouts, it has to be a staff member.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well-“ The enderman lifts his arms, leaning back with a long stretch. His jaw almost unhinges when a large yawn escapes him, but quickly fixes it back into place as he looks at his friend, his own anger having vanished. “I’m gonna grab a bite too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha-“ Tubbo would have thought nothing of it, but since Ranboo gestures </span>
  <em>
    <span>towards </span>
  </em>
  <span>the buffet, he can’t help but look up with wide, owlish eyes. “Ranboo!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo stutters, looking back and forth before his bewildered gaze stops back to look at his friend, mind trying to process his declaration. “Y- You can’t just eat that!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?” Ranboo simply shrugs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rah-anboo“ The goat boy breathes, chest rising as he takes in air. “You can’t just- You can </span>
  <em>
    <span>teleport!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo stands, sloppily pushing his chair to stay between his friend and the table several yards away. “Let me understand you-“ He starts, eyeing him up and down with his hands folded together. “You- You </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>the food is infected with the egg, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told you </span>
  </em>
  <span>that, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>give me food </span>
  </em>
  <span>that is in fact, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>tainted by the egg. But instead of </span>
  <em>
    <span>teleporting </span>
  </em>
  <span>you get </span>
  <em>
    <span>your own food, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you are going to grab the food from the hotel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I see how that...</span>
  <em>
    <span>doesn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>look the best-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it’s not!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wh- Tubbo it takes a lot of energy for me to teleport!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just have some of my food!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do realize I’ve already eaten here, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette blinks. “You…” That seems obvious, does it not? Ranboo clearly appears more healthy and energetic than Tubbo is, a stark contrast between the two. “But you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo even if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>give me food, </span>
  </em>
  <span>it’s…” He leans back, shifting uncomfortably. “There wouldn’t be a point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that’s because you didn’t know before-“ Tubbo swiftly reaches out to gently grasp the hybrid’s wrist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What difference will it make?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ranboo what you’re doing is-“ He’s so distracted by the hybrid’s foolish decision that he doesn’t notice his expression fall into horror just past his shoulder. “It’s like the equivalent of you bringing me water, and then standing up and saying you’re going to drink the Kool-Aid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t serve Kool-Aid here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo bleats in distress at the familiar voice, whirling around to see the hotel’s owner standing with his hands folded behind his back, a deep crimson and black suit fitting him nicely. He skitters back, looking the blonde over, looking his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>over and already wishing he didn’t have that reaction towards someone he cares for </span>
  <em>
    <span>so deeply </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>misses </span>
  </em>
  <span>just as much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo!” Tommy greets again with false cheeriness that has the other boy force back a tic, Ranboo standing stiff behind him. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since last night!” He throws an arm around his shoulder, Tubbo sucking in a breath through grit teeth as he’s pulled closer to the possessed boy...</span>
  <em>
    <span>to those ruby red eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You told me that last night and-“ He pauses eyeing </span>
  <b>
    <em>Tommy’s </em>
  </b>
  <span>friend with a frown. “And no offense, but you kind of look like shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thanks.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you still fuckin- Tubbo!” The blonde pats his shoulder, tilting his head and offering another insincere pout. “You didn’t shower last night!” His voice raises in pitch, as if perplexed by the decision. “I’m like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>scent hound, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo. I smell shit and I go “yes I can find the drugs leave it to me”, and then the authorities praise me before I beat the shit out of all of them because they are all crooked.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that got to do with me showering?” The boy simply shakes his head, lifting a hand to try and move Tommy’s arm away from his shoulder. “And if you can smell it that much why’re you standing so close?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>pals!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy laughs, attempting to guide him away from a very unnerved Ranboo. He pulls Tubbo closer, the goat boy huffing when he bumps into his side as he’s dragged along. “And even if friends smell like absolute wank, they always have to stick by each other. I’ve always said that Tubbo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t, and-“ Tubbo grabs the boy’s arm with both hands, swiftly wrenching himself away from his hold. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tommy’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>my friend. My “pal” or whatever you just said.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Tommy looks confused, mouth parted slightly as if contemplating a response. Tubbo’s grip on his arm doesn’t relent, the pair stuck in the other’s stare for the longest time, although one glints, while being countered with a suspicious brow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I think...you’re right.” Tommy folds his hands behind his back, straightening himself out with an easy smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Scuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well it’s just that-“ The blonde gestures to the plate of food still left to be eaten, Tubbo easily noticing how he holds back a sneer at it, the equivalent to </span>
  <em>
    <span>contraband </span>
  </em>
  <span>at his establishment. Does Tommy not know that Ranboo can travel in and out with ease? That might explain his puzzled expression before taking his eyes off the plate, guiding the goat boy with a hand on his back. “Couldn’t help but notice all that </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitch food </span>
  </em>
  <span>at your table and I got to thinkin- Does Tubbo hate my food? Why- Why would he be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span> after I graciously gave him the suite, free of charge?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-“ He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>to call him out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say something about how Tubbo didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be put in a suite, nor did he intend to. But all the retaliation Tommy gets, is Tubbo sputtering when he nearly chokes on his own saliva. It feels as though his throat had gone dry, that the air is particularly warmer than the rest of the hotel. Sure, it could be because of the plentiful heat sources coming from the kitchen, but it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dry, almost humid. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay Tubbo I know you have a shit diet.” The taller boy speaks in a comforting tone, as if those words were meant to be helpful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On that note, the wafting scent of </span>
  <em>
    <span>cooked meat </span>
  </em>
  <span>fills the entire room, far more prominent than it ever was. Tubbo inhales, ignoring the fact that his mouth is watering from the far more savory meal than the scraps he’s been pecking away at. A pressure on the sides of his head returns, demanding nutrition in a pulsing thud. It isn’t until he swallows and flattens his ears does Tommy respond, a far too eager smile plastered on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You haven’t suddenly turned vegan, have you?” The out of nowhere question sends Tubbo out of his brief strike of pain, looking at Tommy quizzicaly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you become a vegan in the last time we interacted?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thank fuck,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The hotel’s owner breathes a sigh of sheer relief, muscles visibly relaxing as he places a hand to his chest. “Honestly- if you had become a vegan, I don’t know how our friendship would last another second.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t call it </span>
  <em>
    <span>our</span>
  </em>
  <span> friendship.” Again, pettiness makes itself known in the form of venom laced words. Even with a hunger induced migraine Tubbo still manages to fit in a snarky quip towards his possessed friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Tommy clears his throat, tilting his head away from the brunette, crimson eyes set on the pair of cooks escorting a large silver tray towards the buffet table. A large group has already formed around them, as if this main course is some weird presentation. Although, the mystery delicacy is covered by a reflective dome that matches the metal of the tray, the dish emanating small clouds of steam from what Tubbo could see.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rich scent is </span>
  <em>
    <span>beyond </span>
  </em>
  <span>tempting now, Tubbo glancing over his shoulder at his table. If he could go back and grab something to stave off the hunger pangs, hell, even the bucket of milk would do, then his desire for a better meal could be put to temporary rest. From what he can tell, none of the guests looked as near starved as he is, but they’re certainly more excited. Is it the idea of the unknown? The flavorful scent calling them over?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’d you say it was again?” He can still at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>whatever slop his guests were about to dig into. There’s even a possibility the dish could just be a pile of cooked meaty mush with parts of the egg ground into it; a thought that would make him nauseated were it not for what little resides in his stomach. His ear flicks at the sound of Ranboo and Phil approaching from behind, the cooks going off about...something. They address the crowd, Tubbo’s tired mind far too focused on the idea of </span>
  <em>
    <span>food </span>
  </em>
  <span>than two people </span>
  <em>
    <span>discussing </span>
  </em>
  <span>food. Besides, it isn’t like he’s tuned into what they have to say anyhow.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn’t take too long for a paranoia filled mind to jump to sickening conclusions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes are kept on the dish, tensing just the slightest when he sees Tommy lean in towards his ear out of the corner of his eye, a murmur only they and the pair behind them can pick up on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Erm, it’s pulled pork drizzled in a sweet and sour sauce.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silver cover is lifted, a puff of steam rising after being trapped, revealing a tantalizing display of meat aligned neatly in strips, a thin layer of sauce coated over each individual piece. It isn’t long before guests begin merging towards the table, already creating a crude line as they gather their place and discuss amongst themselves about the main cuisine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo furiously taps his foot, leg bouncing as tense blue eyes dare to cast their gaze towards the older gentlemen just behind Tommy. Even with that hat obscuring his features, the boy could </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell </span>
  </em>
  <span>the color had drained from Phil’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, an unsteady gaze snaps from the table to the boy, hands aggressively gripping Tommy’s shoulders. Tommy lets out a curse, Tubbo staggering back from the intense gaze </span>
  <em>
    <span>searing </span>
  </em>
  <span>into Tommy alone, pushing back another anxious tic. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Surely not…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through grit teeth and trembling body, the young blonde is caught in an iron clad grip, Tubbo surprised that the infected boy </span>
  <em>
    <span>winces </span>
  </em>
  <span>when nails dig into his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tommy-“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Phil breathes, rage bubbling to the surface. Something about his eyes seem so...</span>
  <em>
    <span>off, </span>
  </em>
  <span>an emotion he’s never quite seen before. From what he remembers of the aged man, he tends to be more stoic than this, if not a bit annoyed by other people’s antics sometimes. But here? There’s nothing but rising </span>
  <em>
    <span>fury, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a fire cast long ago and only now lets itself show.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s an audible gasp from Ranboo as he and Tubbo’s gaze lift up along with a squirming Tommy, now being held high into the air at the collar of his jacket. Phil </span>
  <em>
    <span>seethes </span>
  </em>
  <span>through gritted teeth, the younger of the two desperately clambering for a hold on Phil, dark wings that have been put out of commission not too long ago spreading in intimidation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, I swear to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>god-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crack in Tommy’s voice makes Tubbo force back a whimper, while Ranboo merely stands in pure shock. The enderman has picked up on the pieces it seems, and now had his fearful gaze cast onto Tommy, a boy now accused of being a </span>
  <em>
    <span>monster. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yet… the brunette nearly pries Tommy from Phil’s harsh grasp, to cling to him tightly and defend him. Egg or not, seeing his friend in pain- </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s oh so hard to reason that something else is posing as him within his mind- </span>
  </em>
  <span>just twists his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil wait-“ He finally squeaks, only to fail at catching either of their attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-“ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil’s gaze flicks past the infected boy, past the buffet table and near the entrance of the dining hall. All three boys immediately follow in his footsteps, heads turning. Light returns to Phil’s eyes, and more likely than not wells up in his chest as a large, boar like form staggers his way into the dining hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno!” The pale blonde yells aloud, immediately dropping Tommy with a careless thud. All that anger, all that turmoil and potential </span>
  <em>
    <span>grief, </span>
  </em>
  <span>vanishes into delight as he rushes past tables and chairs to greet his friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil wait, he’s-“ It’s far too late for the goat boy to warn Phil of Techno’s eerily pale complexion, the pinkish tone to his once velvet red robes, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>narrowed crimson eyes scanning the room.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But after a scare like that, who wouldn’t run into their friend’s arms to ensure their safety? Tubbo just wishes he didn’t have to watch Phil’s expression fall into petrified fear even from several yards away. The older man doesn’t notice until he pulls out of the hug, one the pig man lacks to reciprocate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The trio could hear the nervousness in his voice from here, making off handed glances towards them every so often.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s no response from the pig in question, brushing past his friend and towards the mingling crowd. Phil attempts to get his attention, from tapping on his arm to tugging on the robe that drapes past his shoulders. It isn’t until he’s standing in line, does he acknowledge the man, slowly turning his head in a way that makes Phil tense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno’s stare makes him fight back the urge to shiver, a narrow, intimidating gaze beating down on him. Sure, Techno </span>
  <em>
    <span>naturally </span>
  </em>
  <span>makes that expression, but Phil could </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell the difference between his interactions with others versus when he’s alone with him. Despite the stone cold glare that tends to always rest on the pig man’s face, his eyes soften whenever he looks in Phil’s direction or speaks to him. But now, there isn’t a trace of that, no matter how hard the man searches, all he can see are glimmering crimson eyes that remain trained on him while their owner picks up a plate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Phil.” He gestures a half wave with his free hand. A smile manages its way onto his snout, although any sort of pleasantness it could possibly bring is non-existent. Techno observes the scraggly blonde before shuffling down the line of the buffet table, his friend in tow. “You know, you look kind of queasy. Everything alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man blinks, astonished. A response jumps to his throat, ready to say how it </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>alright and that they needed to leave before Techno got any worse. “Where have you been!?” Is his final reply. He supposes it doesn’t even matter anymore, but the least he could have is </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind of explanation. “You just </span>
  <em>
    <span>left </span>
  </em>
  <span>our room to- to go swimming and then what!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno tilts his head up in concentration after he places a pastry on his plate, still warm to the touch. “Uhhh-“ His gaze remains fixated on the ceiling while the rather impatient man waits. “I was...chasing Quackity. Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil groans. “You were...chasing him? Just because he was in the same vicinity as you?” It isn’t that out of the ordinary for Techno, he has to admit. But… the sheer recklessness of the decision and what it lead to, the fact he </span>
  <em>
    <span>split off </span>
  </em>
  <span>from him in the first place when they were both fully aware of the danger that dwelled within this building is absolutely ludicrous! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we’re getting technical,” Techno quickly starts, glancing over his shoulder when Karl accidentally bumps into him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>He </span>
  </em>
  <span>chased </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other man sighs “Okay…” He resists planting his face into his hands yet again, cheeks burning from the frustration of his friend’s slipping mind. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> was he chasing you? Was he trying to catch you?” If Quackity also happens to be corrupted by the egg, which given the information seems to be extremely plausible, then it’s likely he wanted to lead Techno into a trap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I stole his swim trunks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah-“ With a shrug, the pig comes to a stop, once again grabbing various foods from the selection in front of him. He pauses, glancing from the food and back to Phil. “Maybe you should get something too. I mean Phil, you...you’re kinda pale if- I’m just being honest here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil raises a brow, moving a hand to gently scratch at his cheek. He adjusts his hat, raising it up so that he can have a less obscured view of Technoblade. “Do you remember what color his eyes were?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The only color I saw was </span>
  <em>
    <span>rage and fear.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They were brown!” The pig lets a snort escape him, a tad annoyed with all this questioning. “Why are you so obsessed with Quackity, Phil?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one who’s obsessed!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course!” Techno quickly grasps at a set of metal tongs, more focused on actually eating than answering his concerned friend. He didn’t realize he missed breakfast until he entered the dining hall, but maybe he can think better and actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>answer </span>
  </em>
  <span>Phil once he has the proper energy to. “My obsession with him stopped once the egg told me about how it can destroy any government that stands in my way! Quackity is just one of the dozens of pillars I need to knock down, but why waste all your hard work when you have something that can plow through them all in one fell swoop?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil stutters. “Th...</span>
  <em>
    <span>the egg?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>it feeds on his desire for a lack of government, of course the </span>
  <em>
    <span>self proclaimed empire </span>
  </em>
  <span>sunk its claws into one of the most powerful people on the smp, and it isn’t even because of its </span>
  <em>
    <span>original founders. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Even Phil knows Technoblade can blindly indulge in hypocritical behavior, but this? This is a whole new </span>
  <em>
    <span>meaning </span>
  </em>
  <span>to </span>
  <em>
    <span>unaware. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno merely nods, followed by another gruff snort as he finishes placing one final slice of meat onto his plate. “Do you want to sh-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A loud, distinctive shatter has the entire room fall silent, the crowd easing back from the sharp mess.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay Phil now- now that’s just wasteful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s fucking pork!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- I’m aware of that, yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The distressed man huffs, tossing his hat to the floor. “You’re a pig!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>god-“ The pale blonde inhales deeply, running a hand nervously through his locks. He looks around, shaky eyes staring at the damaged plate scattered in pieces on the carpeted floor along with an array of food. This </span>
  <em>
    <span>damned </span>
  </em>
  <span>egg already crossed so many boundaries, and now </span>
  <em>
    <span>this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s bad enough he’s lost someone so close to him, but to witness him nearly eat </span>
  <em>
    <span>pork? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Phil’s rage filled gaze cuts to the guilty party, his voice fills the dead quiet dining hall</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oi!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy shouts, inching past Tubbo and the rest of the egg controlled crowd. He shimmies past, coming across the broken plate and pieces of food that have now been rendered useless. “What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He scowls at Phil, already having been irritated by the man </span>
  <em>
    <span>throttling </span>
  </em>
  <span>him just minutes before. “Antfrost made all those plates! Do you know how fuckin’ hard that was? He kept getting fur in the fuckin’ clay so I said to him, “Ant, oh Ant? Stop gettin’ your fur in the fucking pottery or I’ll-“”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy is tackled to the floor before he can finish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The enraged holler doesn’t even register to those infected, nor do they flinch at the ungodly roar. They simply stare with matching crimson eyes, all pinned to the man with a trembling, white knuckled fist raised, a grimace set on his face. Before a single blow can be dealt, Phil’s wrist is caught mid swing, the momentum coming to a halt. His piercing eyes swivel up towards his obstacle to vengeance, for </span>
  <em>
    <span>retribution. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And as Tubbo and Ranboo scope out the scene that almost turned violent, the friendly cartoonish face of a raccoon mask shakes its head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>“I’M AFRAID I CANNOT ALLOW ANY HARM TO COME TO TOMMYINNIT, PHILZA MINECRAFT.” </b>
  <span>There’s no malice layered beneath his tone, in fact, it sounds </span>
  <em>
    <span>sorrowful. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man in question eases just the slightest, still eyeing the raccoon, as if contemplating if he should go against </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>too. His gaze flits back to the boy struggling to break free beneath him, his once stilted thoughts now rushing at full speed yet again. He tries to pull his wrist from Sam Nook’s grasp, only to be met with further restraint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>“PLEASE STOP. ANY FURTHER ATTEMPT TO HARM THE OWNER OF INNIT HOTEL WILL BE MET WITH HARSHER PROCEDURES.“</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Harsher procedures my ass…” Tommy mutters beneath his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up! You-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A familiar sensation greets the man’s shoulder, claws delicately pricking at the skin beneath his robes. He makes a sparing glance over his shoulder to find Techno </span>
  <em>
    <span>glowering </span>
  </em>
  <span>down upon him, a sight that makes his eyes widen. Never has Phil experienced fear in regards to Technoblade. Well, perhaps </span>
  <em>
    <span>for </span>
  </em>
  <span>him and his well-being, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>from </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? The silent </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgust </span>
  </em>
  <span>on the pig’s face is enough to induce nausea from the weary man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’re you doing Phil?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s quick and callous, a question he cannot reply to as a new voice, opposite in both tone and pitch, crawls into the display.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now what’s all this?” There’s a crack in the demon’s voice as he trods over to the piling group, curiosity brimming in every word. Ant follows not to far behind, remaining silent. His reddened gaze says more than snappish words ever could anyhow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Bad!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>A relieved cry leaves Tommy as he pushes himself free, staggering to his feet. He doesn’t hesitate to rush to his side, earning a side glance from Tubbo. “Philza just started fuckin’ hitting me and shit!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t even-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! No.” The sharp interjection leaves Phil’s defense useless, Sam Nook’s tight grip hauling him back up. “He was acting all pissy around me. Bet it’s cause he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>unbelievably </span>
  </em>
  <span>upset at how successful my business is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Your business or your fucking cult?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad and Tommy exchange a glance, Antfrost quickly stepping through to assist Sam in his efforts to restrain Phil. The blonde bites his tongue for once, silently affirming for the towering demon to handle this. Perhaps he jumped the gun in having Techno on their side right away, but if </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil </span>
  </em>
  <span>could just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop </span>
  </em>
  <span>throwing a fit then this could all turn out for the better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay mister,” The dark figure approaches the struggling man, ignoring his urgent cries for Technoblade’s help. Bad’s voice carries a condescending lightheartedness to it as though he were speaking to a temperamental child. “I think it’s time for you go back to your room.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> A clawed hand grips Phil’s chin, tilting it up ever so slowly to be met with a set of snow colored eyes. Something about his fanged grin sends a chill down his spine, the moment of weakness allowing Sam Nook and Antfrost to tighten their hold. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, not his room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” Bad can’t hide the excited flick of his tail at Tommy’s words, rising back up to meet his boss’s gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know where to put ‘im.” Tommy speaks just low enough for the demon to hear, not that it matters since there’s only a handful of those uninfected present...</span>
  <em>
    <span>and completely powerless to stop it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that what you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Bad says with a hum, hands clasped behind his back and leaning forward. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy wants nothing more than to rid himself of another problem, to have Phil be pliant and silent. And so does the </span>
  <em>
    <span>egg</span>
  </em>
  <span> for that matter, it’s voice rumbling inside his head, a craving for new blood, for more </span>
  <em>
    <span>power </span>
  </em>
  <span>to carry out its glory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Course it’s what I fuckin’ want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The remaining who </span>
  <em>
    <span>aren’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>under the egg’s influence take note of Bad’s lack of correction on Tommy’s use of language. It’s a staple for him, really, just as it’s a staple for the blonde to cuss whenever he pleases, mostly to agitate anyone opposing him. His tone however, doesn’t sit right with the brunette. It is a cold order, and but a few souls wince when Phil is left kicking and screaming, dark feathers scattering along the ground as his wings flail. Bad forces them shut, pushing back against the force of the spreading wings while Phil’s hollers grow more raspy by the second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>pity </span>
  </em>
  <span>on Sam Nook’s face tugs at Tubbo’s heart as Phil is finally dragged with one last cry, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>plea </span>
  </em>
  <span>before he disappears from the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tubbo, stop him!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil called for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The idea of dozens of crimson eyes slowly turning to bear down upon makes him freeze, but a quick glance reveals that the brainwashed crowd is more focused on the spectacle that just occurred more than anything else, even more than the food they had just been itching to dine into. Even Quackity and Techno standing beside each other is an odd sight to see without one </span>
  <em>
    <span>screaming </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the other, and so is the boy’s attire now stained a sheer crimson.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm…” Ranboo looks down at his friend, slowly backing away with him. “Should we-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right then-“ Tommy brushes off any dust from his jacket, adjusting it accordingly before facing the duo. “Are you two going to stay? Sam Nook is treating us to non-alcoholic </span>
  <em>
    <span>champagne.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He tilts his chin up as he mispronounces the last word, although the pride in his tone proves that he’s utterly unaware of that. “Pain in the sham, ey?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s ears flick back, pupils shrinking as he takes another step back. “Tommy, I think we should…” His mind struggles for </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to end on, a few words and they could have their potential escape from this room </span>
  <em>
    <span>surrounded </span>
  </em>
  <span>by those who now served the egg.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Tommy’s dejected look has Tubbo wrench his eyes away from him, unable to face such a disheartened expression from his friend, regardless of his current state.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were just- leaving.” Ranboo smiles weakly, placing a reassuring hand on the goat boy’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But lunch just started!” Neither of them know if Tommy intended for it to come out as a whine. “Don’t tell me you’re not gonna enjoy any of it because-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I already ate though!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But did you eat </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-Yeah- Yes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Once we get that plate cleaned up, I can-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo can’t hear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Save for the blood rushing in his ears, any and all sound is sucked into its own vacuum and winked out of existence in an instant, his world swirling just for a brief moment. He intakes a quick breath, cold, frigid air piercing his lungs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Everything is black for but a split second, no dining hall, no feeling, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>no thoughts.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing Tubbo regains is his footing, shoes squeaking along the tile as he’s propelled forward. He lifts his arms in an attempt to balance himself, and manages to stand upright seconds before potential collapse. He coughs into his fist, turning his hand over and over just to ensure that it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>real. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He squints in the sudden change of light, or in this case, lack thereof. It isn’t as dark as that horrid void he just experienced, but it takes nearly a minute for him to realize he’s in the lobby, and another few seconds to notice Ranboo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He whirls around to face his friend, mouth parted in shock and brow furrowed. He’s still reeling from the sudden shift from the dining hall to here, unsure of his surroundings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you just…?” From the violet sparkles weaving around Ranboo’s form, slowly showering down and fading into the floor, it seems obvious what happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I I don’t-“ He swallows, nervously wringing his clawed hands as he brings himself to look into a pair of dazed blue eyes. “I didn’t- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>should have </span>
  </em>
  <span>done that once Tommy showed up but….but Phill happened and I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>stood there- I-“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo winces, clutching the side of his head with a painful hiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ranboo!” Immediately, the goat boy rushes to his side, although he hesitates just the slightest when another angered croak erupts from the monochrome enderman. “Hey! I-It’s okay big man, you- thanks, for getting us out of there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not done yet,” A nervous set of eyes flick to the entrance, their one and only chance of escape teasing them, urging them to come closer and just try and pry open the enchanted glass doors. “Tubbo, I-“ Ranboo gasps, chest rising and falling. “I can get us out, just- just hold on-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure you don’t-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just hold on!” While he appreciates the sentiment, there is absolutely no time for worry. Tommy would get wise to their escape attempt, and the egg, along with a bunch of possessed guests certainly wouldn’t bode well for either of them. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts, </span>
  </em>
  <span>just teleporting with </span>
  <em>
    <span>one </span>
  </em>
  <span>person makes his head throb and ache. It’s nearly as bad as that </span>
  <em>
    <span>little voice cooing in his head, whispering to him about false narratives and memories he can’t recall. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He knows better than to trust it now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With Tubbo tightly gripping the hybrid’s arm, and much to the brunette’s dismay, the world falls from their sight, leaving but a soundless void. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo is plunged back into his own world within seconds, taking in a deep, heavy breath for fresh, warm air to encompass him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He only feels hard tile and a cool breeze. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha?” He flinches when his hands </span>
  <em>
    <span>smack </span>
  </em>
  <span>against the glass paned doors when he’s dragged back to reality, a figure standing on the other side mirroring his shock.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...Tubbo?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t expect this risk, nor even </span>
  <em>
    <span>consider </span>
  </em>
  <span>it. Only </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ranboo </span>
  </em>
  <span>could teleport in and out because of his biology, whereas someone such as Tubbo would be doomed to remain in the hotel’s halls until he falls into corruption. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What...what now?” The taller boy clearly looks beat from teleporting twice in such a short span of time, especially with another person. He isn’t sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>exactly it’s such a strain, but Ranboo now finds himself leaning against part of the outdoor decor to catch his breath, although that’s quite hard to with the knowledge of his friend being trapped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>they do now?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Inevitably, everyone in the hotel will be infected by the egg, if they haven’t already. He can’t risk Ranboo teleporting back in solely for his sake, nor could he let him make numerous trips back and forth for food. The only choice left, is to </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave by force. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And whether said force includes convincing Tommy to lift the enchantment or even </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight him </span>
  </em>
  <span>for it- then Tubbo has to brace himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought of the latter makes his stomach churn, ears dropping at the thought of harming his friend. He knows that it </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy speaking, having those thoughts…but the real Tommy, the one who’s trapped beneath that shell of the crimson egg’s influence, is still there. Even worse, the egg could easily puppeteer Tommy around, have him take all the hits while it doesn’t take an inkling of damage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay...Okay.” The young boy tries to calm himself, murmuring the word over and over. Slowly, he tilts his head up, locking eyes with the nerve wracked enderman. “Do you know </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>who isn’t in the hotel right now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm…” Ranboo’s voice is muffled through the glass as he thinks over his options. “There’s… Eret. And Puffy. I-I think Punz and Ponk but Ponk </span>
  <em>
    <span>miiight </span>
  </em>
  <span>be with the egg? I’m not sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you go get Eret then? Maybe Puffy? It doesn’t have to be either of them just- </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>willing to help will do!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, I-I’ll do what I can!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright!” Hope floods his chest as Ranboo steps back, ready to rush for some form of aid from this waking nightmare. “Then-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s blood runs cold when he hears his voice being called, followed by a set of swift footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you are!” Tommy cries, relief etched into his voice. He quickens his pace, approaching the boy steadily before coming to a halt. Tubbo’s ears flatten, eyes wide with fear while Ranboo stares in surprise at the duo. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“...What?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo tries to ignore the genuine </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>in Tommy’s voice at the image of his guests trying to escape. He stands there, tail and ears twitching, waiting for some kind of reaction.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He reacts first.</span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the brief moment his head turns to look at Tommy, it immediately faces Ranboo once again, any hope remaining now replaced with </span>
  <em>
    <span>panic. “Ranboo, run!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He shrieks, smacking at the glass to make the enderman staffer further back from the building. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Get help! Go g-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ey!” The blonde’s booming cry makes Tubbo whimper, having hardly any time to think as Tommy charges for the door. A set of arms wrap around the other’s waist, hauling him back seconds before his fingertips graze against the door. Tommy squirms in Tubbo’s grasp, kicking at the ground and digging his nails into the soft skin of his arms in an effort to get him to let go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ stop it!” He growls, watching the enderman sprint out of sight. He grits his teeth, shoving hard and inching back from Tubbo, crimson eyes laced with betrayal and anger. “You-“ His voice wavers, bordering on a crack. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You tried to escape!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounds more like an accusation than a blatant fact, but Tubbo isn’t going to bother with </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>he has to say anymore. He’s sick of being deprived of food, of having to let himself turn </span>
  <em>
    <span>filthy </span>
  </em>
  <span>because of tainted water, and he’s sick of his mind </span>
  <em>
    <span>rotting </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the inside out, giving that damned egg a chance to invade his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Still am.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He challenges, opening one of his tightly clenched hands to reveal a set of smooth, teal orbs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy’s eyes widen, hands flinging up to his jacket and patting it down before reaching the pockets of his pants. He blinks, pure shock engraved on his face. The look of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>almost has Tubbo think twice about tossing the first pearl, but once the blonde shakes his head in a silent plea, tries to feign sympathy with </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood colored eyes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he throws it as far as possible down the hall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tubbo!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a strict code for construction of a building to require at least one fire safety route to ensure all guests evacuate properly. And although Tommy claims to have built the stunning wonder of the Innit Hotel, Sam Nook definitely had some involvement with its construction. Tubbo </span>
  <em>
    <span>wishes </span>
  </em>
  <span>things could have remained like that, that every day he’d visit Tommy and assist him in whatever tasks he needed to complete if he had the time. Things were...so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>better </span>
  </em>
  <span>before he picked up that stupid egg piece. No time for cursing himself, for not saying or </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything before the worst came barging at his door. Now all he could do, </span>
  <em>
    <span>is run. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Footsteps gain not too far behind him, Tubbo tossing another pearl and coming to a grinding halt at the end of the hall. He yelps when he smacks into it with a hard thud, taking damage from the not so soft landing. The unmistakable scent of chlorine fills the air, and from getting up he can see the entrance to the pool just a foot away from him, but that isn’t his destination. A fire exit is most likely as far down as possible, and even if it means betting on the chance that the door isn’t enchanted as well, he’ll take it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seconds before Tommy skids to his friends side, a door opens, and another pearl is hurled downward with immense force. The brunette gasps when Tommy is but an arm’s distance from grabbing him, squeezing his eyes shut and preparing for the worst- that the pearl isn’t going to work and he’ll be caught.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t even pause for breath before he’s running further down again, teleporting moments before Tommy could reach, grasping at air. A string of curses echo through the stairwell, and from what he could hear, the infected boy was leaping down a flight or two just to get closer. Apparently mild fall damage is worth ensuring that Tubbo, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone, </span>
  </em>
  <span>doesn’t leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“-can’t go down there!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The goat boy ignores the warning, no matter how frightened it sounds. It’s just another trick, another manipulative tactic for him to stop and be subdued by his best friend. He doesn’t realize his eyes are watering until he tosses the next pearl, only another flight or so from the basement. He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>running </span>
  </em>
  <span>from his dearest friend, from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He isn’t going to hurt him, right? He’d never! The only time he’s ever acted out in such a manner is when he was in exile, but after hearing of Dream’s manipulation...</span>
  <em>
    <span>torture, </span>
  </em>
  <span>while he didn’t exactly like it, it certainly explained a lot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No wonder he went to the egg’s side.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What did it promise? Safety? Comfort? Tommy has no reason to become a toy to be strung about again  unless he saw some sort of benefit from it- but even with a reward, Tubbo </span>
  <em>
    <span>doubts</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d even accept this kind of payment even then! Is it the familiarity? Is it because it’s so similar to Dream- that deep down, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>misses </span>
  </em>
  <span>being controlled and-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The disturbing thought distracts Tubbo, a loud cry leaving him as he collapses down the set of stone stairs. Cement scrapes against his chin and knees, arms smacking hard against the substance until he comes to a stop, curling inward at the stingingly cold sensation grazing his cheek. An eerie red light surrounds him, and on either side of him, are doors. One of them is the fire exit, it </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo! Are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t answer. Maybe it’s best not to anyhow. Instead, he settles with a quiet groan, nearly choking out in pain from the pinching sensation in his side. With a shaky, scraped hand, he grips one of the handles, the metal oddly warm to the touch despite the cool stairwell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He locks eyes with Tommy, the blonde having reached the stairwell’s end. Both of them merely stare at each other, silent surprise keeping them rooted to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo turns the handle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-No no no no no-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy’s desperate plea is the last thing he hears before he steps into a crimson jungle.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!! Just wanted to say again thank you all so much for your support for this fic! I’m glad you all enjoy my work!! Heads up, this chapter contains more “violent” scenes, nothing too graphic but there’s blood and a sprained ankle so be aware of that! Also, this is the final chapter! After this I’ll be starting on a protege au fic I’ve had on the backburner for awhile! Hope you all enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s possible Tubbo wouldn’t have stumbled head first into the warm, brooding environment of a seeping red forest, crimson vines twisting and shifting from all directions. A coating of red moss sinks against his weight, the boy stepping away out of disgust and onto a far more dry log. The wood here only consists of warped crimson as far as he could tell, although the lack of space with vines dangling in messy heaps made it hard to see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shock is...brief, surprisingly. Of course there has to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>source </span>
  </em>
  <span>for all the corruption within the hotel’s very walls, but for it to be an entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>room </span>
  </em>
  <span>tucked away in the sub-basement is unexpected to say the least. Still, fear grips him into place, ears perked and on alert at the sound of shifting and writhing. He would take longer to stare in horrified awe at the display around him, pondering just how long it took for all this to grow and fester, when a less natural noise garners his attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He teeters, quickly adjusting his balance before his gaze shifts to the sign of active movement that isn’t coming from the infested room. It’s Philza, the older gentlemen still putting up one hell of a struggle against Bad and Sam. They’re off to the side of Tubbo, just slightly farther in and seemingly have no difficulty walking through the mossy ground. Meanwhile, Phil kicks up water and loose dirt hidden beneath, even revealing a few crimson spotted mushrooms hidden within the patches. The pair try to ease Phil, or so it seems. Despite his thrashing they speak in a calm manner, even if their aggressive restraining tactics betray that sense.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And as the goat boy looks on, frozen to the spot with his throat having gone dry in the humid room, he spots </span>
  <em>
    <span>it.<br/><br/></span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the farthest wall, a gathering- </span>
  <em>
    <span>cluster </span>
  </em>
  <span>of vines big and small careen into a singular point. What had once been stone bricks now pulse and swell with blood colored vines, moss decorating some of its edges. But that isn’t the main attraction, far from it. The thing at the very </span>
  <em>
    <span>center </span>
  </em>
  <span>protruding from the plant coated wall is what makes Tubbo nearly faint on the spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He just barely processes Phil’s words as he’s still being sent towards his doom, spouting off about what that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>is along with it’s hideousness. Those are the only comments that offend Bad, because each insult thrown towards the egg spore is followed up by a punctuated cry of agony. Tubbo doesn’t even wish to imagine what he’s doing, perhaps jamming his claws into his skin, going deeper with every new comment on the egg spore? It nearly makes him shiver in the warm abode.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he forces himself to leap onto the nearest thing that doesn’t entirely consist of the egg. His nails dig into the wood of the crimson plank just as the log a few feet behind him is rapidly consumed by vines. He curses to himself, knowing he can’t stay in here forever, at least, not without a vine trying to snag the so-called intruder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo stops upon hearing Bad’s voice, the area dropping into utter silence. Even Phil’s screaming has died down, but that strikes more fear into him than anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s when he locks eyes with the demon, when Bad cries aloud for his capture does the metal door burst open, all of their heads turning towards its direction.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo would’ve rather taken his chances with Bad.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because in the doorway, is a panting, blonde figure, hand turned red from smacking the door so hard. There’s a metal clang following the boom, and the goat boy half assumes that Tommy knocked the damn thing off its </span>
  <em>
    <span>hinges. </span>
  </em>
  <span>When scathing red meets terrified blue, Tubbo inches back as his dear friend's face contorts into another unnatural scowl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You fuckin…” There’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgust </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his tone, sneering at </span>
  <b>
    <em>Tommy’s</em>
  </b>
  <span> friend as though he committed an irreparable atrocity. “Tub...bo. Come here-“ He pauses to suck in a deep breath, glancing away and swallowing before his sights are set back on the other boy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Now.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t listen to h-“ Phil’s warning is cut off by a vine covering his mouth, Sam and Bad eyeing their boss silently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fuck did you-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I said </span>
  <em>
    <span>no.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>As much as he wants to escape this hellhole, there’d be no point in running with his tail tucked between his legs. Oh it’s definitely good to know when to quit, when one is in over their head, and this </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>applies here- but with how much is at stake, how many minds could be claimed, how many </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be lost…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo can’t take the risk.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t cower this time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Challenging Tommy’s stare and ignoring the mild rumble in the room, he steps forward and off the crimson plank. He fights back a gag when his shoes grow wet with muddy water, trying to put up a confident feat in front of his possessed friend. “I’m not leaving this room until that </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing </span>
  </em>
  <span>is gone and pried out of your- your </span>
  <em>
    <span>thick head!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My head is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>thick first of all-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh really?” Tubbo retorts with a sarcastic chuckle, shaking his head. “Then why were you dense enough to team up with the guys who wanted us </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>they </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>dense.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because they’re just as under the egg’s spell as you are!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy shifts uncomfortably before tilting his head up, arms crossed as he strides closer to Tubbo. “I’m not under any “spell” or whatever you’re calling it. The egg- Tubbo, it can give </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette steps back. “Seems to me like it’s doing a lot more </span>
  <em>
    <span>taking </span>
  </em>
  <span>than giving.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” The shout makes him flinch, but Tommy quickly eases his own tension to ensure Tubbo wouldn’t be so...on edge. This must be quite a sight to take in, really. A mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>fraction</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the beauty the egg can create, and that’s just from its appearance alone. “No, Tubbo.” He clears his throat, lowering his arms and attempting to close the distance between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finds no such luck as </span>
  <b>
    <em>Tommy’s</em>
  </b>
  <span> friend continues to back away, and the only reason he </span>
  <em>
    <span>stops </span>
  </em>
  <span>is because of a precariously placed root that sends him falling to the mossy ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the blonde’s best efforts, there is no hiding the underlying </span>
  <em>
    <span>mischief </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his eyes. Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>something, he’s certain of that. It involves the egg, surely, but with him thrown into the mix? Tubbo parts his mouth to advise him to keep away, that he’ll rip and scrape at these damned vines just to have him </span>
  <em>
    <span>hesitate-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Before a sneaking crimson vine ensnares him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sharp cry fills the room, the goat boy sent down to his stomach, an earthy scent flooding his nose and forcing a wheezing cough out of him. It forms into a wretch when the mix of stagnant water and fungus cling to his shirt, soaking it and touching his skin. Laying in this miserable puddle alone is enough to send him spiraling, but a hard tug drags him through the dirt, quickly wiping his face of the dirtied liquid that had splashed near the corner of his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut as the thing around his waist tightens, at first trying desperately to stay on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>ground, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but once he’s lifted into the air he sees no other option than to start </span>
  <em>
    <span>clawing </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the vine holding him captive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His head </span>
  <em>
    <span>swims, </span>
  </em>
  <span>unable to register Tommy’s cautionary words interjected with Phil’s cries. Any energy he gained back upstairs is now </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasted </span>
  </em>
  <span>from trying to evade this thing. Not that it mattered, since what little food he was given ultimately amounted to </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>in terms of replenishing his energy and strength. The very most he could do, is </span>
  <em>
    <span>think. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>becoming more difficult by the second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried </span>
  <em>
    <span>so hard-“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy breathes, approaching the brunette as the vine lowers so that they’re at eye level. Tubbo </span>
  <em>
    <span>swears </span>
  </em>
  <span>he can spot a glint of regret in those red tinged eyes, but his next statement sends another blast of rage through him. “I wanted you to have the easy way, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>way-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The easy way!?” Tubbo bleats, squirming in his plant based prison. He rears back one of his legs, kicking at the air while occasionally getting a hit on the thick vine keeping him in place. It’s an involuntary reflex, his goat biology demanding that he stomp his foot on the ground and </span>
  <em>
    <span>drag </span>
  </em>
  <span>it as though preparing to charge when faced with immense anger. “How is making me </span>
  <em>
    <span>starve </span>
  </em>
  <span>until I concede the </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy </span>
  </em>
  <span>way!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You weren’t s’posed to avoid the food!” Tommy counters, raising his voice. He stands on the tips of his shoes, trying to intimidate </span>
  <b>
    <em>Tommy’s </em>
  </b>
  <span>captured friend. “I-I planned entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>meals </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the next </span>
  <em>
    <span>month </span>
  </em>
  <span>at this place and-“ His ramblings heighten to a whine. “And for what? For you to just go “actually I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>any of this food my bestie, sucks to suck lol!” like it’s nothin’!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>mock me.” There’s an undeniable </span>
  <em>
    <span>sharpness </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the other’s tone as he grits his teeth at the hotel’s owner. Even in this sort of peril he isn’t one to put up with smartass remarks in his regards. He swallows, trying to bring any form of moisture back to his dry throat. If that isn’t going to turn his voice hoarse then the potential screaming match </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>will. “Besides, you didn’t give me any other choice, now did you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo,” Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>trembles </span>
  </em>
  <span>just the slightest, lowering his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He takes in a deep breath, a hefty sigh escaping him. “There </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>another option.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The one that would get me infected?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Piss off!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo finally screams, leering towards the boy who is just as outraged as he is. He doesn’t particularly </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoy </span>
  </em>
  <span>being in a vice like grip from an evil </span>
  <em>
    <span>egg</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but damnit he’s going to get up close and personal with his friend if it meant getting him to see through this horrid mirage!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ey!”  Tommy isn’t going to let Tubbo </span>
  <em>
    <span>berate </span>
  </em>
  <span>him on </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> own mistakes! Tubbo decided not to eat, to not take the generously given meals he could have at any time of the day- he could’ve ordered room service for fuck’s sake! “Listen, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>our last encounter with the egg-“ He winces as he recalls that event, making a gesture with his hand. “It didn’t really...turn out that </span>
  <em>
    <span>great.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something prickles deep within him as he recalls Tubbo sobbing because of the egg, never quite learning what obscenities it had whispered to him. He supposes that it’s water under the bridge now, but the egg needs to be just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little </span>
  </em>
  <span>more competent this time around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You gonna try and put a positive spin on that experience? On all thi- Wha-!” Tubbo yelps as his vision turns into nothing more than a blur of colors, the assault on his senses swiftly draining what little energy he has left. He blinks as he adjusts to his new perspective, the brunette dangling upside down yet still eye level with Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tenses when a hand caresses his cheek, his friend more occupied with rubbing the dirt off his cheek with his thumb. “Sorry,” He mutters, removing the remnants of a mud stain from the other boy’s skin. “It was botherin’ the </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of me. Anyways, Tubbo.” He leans forward, forcing Tubbo to leer back from the intense crimson gaze. “Why don’t you want the egg to claim you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Claim me?” Oh he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates </span>
  </em>
  <span>that wording. “I-“ He swallows, eyes widening as he senses his gorge </span>
  <em>
    <span>rising </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the sudden motion, bile threatening its way up his throat before he pushes it back with another hard swallow. “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be part of the eggpire, Tommy. As a matter of fact, I-I want to put a stop to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ca-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t put a stop to the egg,” Bad chimes, another gleefully sinister expression dancing on his face as he paces around Tubbo. A claw traces along the skin of his throat, and for a split second he looks to Tommy. It’s a reflex, to ask for safety from him even if no words are exchanged. It’s become such a second nature that his tired, starved mind forgets for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>flash </span>
  </em>
  <span>that the blonde standing before him is under the control of a monstrous parasite.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So why did he see Tommy’s eyes widen at the threatening gesture? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Erm, Bad-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?” The demon looks up to his boss, slowly retracting his claw from Tubbo’s neck. Perplexed white eyes hold Tommy’s surprised stare, his tail flicking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me handle it, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bad raises a brow. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The tone is similar to how Tommy previously insisted that Phill be dragged down here via him and Sam, and “reprimanded” for his poor behavior. But this time, it’s far more of a question, as though the hooded figure could </span>
  <em>
    <span>sense </span>
  </em>
  <span>that something is off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy hisses, stalking up to the far taller, far more </span>
  <em>
    <span>intimidating </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the two. “He’s not going to warm up to the egg if he isn’t convinced.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve spent a lot of hours trying to convince him.” Bad tsks. Normally it wouldn’t be his place to call out his boss on such...incompetency, but if Tubbo isn’t swayed by his best friend being with the eggpire the second he laid eyes on that crimson stare, then it sounds as though </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>will have him crack. “C’mon! I think I c-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I sent you down here to deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy chides, pointing towards the winged man now pinned down by a series of vines while Sam Nook merely watches in quiet protest. His normally angry, yet light hearted tone has delved into complete seriousness, something that’s particularly rare to see from someone like him. “Now you can do that, or you can </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tension hangs dead in the air, Bad stepping towards Tommy and causing him to instinctively step back in return. He huffs, tilting his neck to try and spot the vines overtaking Phil and Tubbo. Then, Bad relents, leaning back and swerving past him. “Okay,” He says flatly, strutting towards the door. “I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But good luck having someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else </span>
  </em>
  <span>bring Phil to your side.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever,” Tommy casts a spiteful glare towards the demon as he exits the basement, the blonde assuming he’s just going to find Skeppy and make out with him or </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever </span>
  </em>
  <span>they do when one of them is in a mood. “He’s fuckin’ old anyway, he’s not as durable as Tubz.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fuck is that supposed to-“ The winged man’s shout is out to a stop by another vine, Phil having previously pried the first one from his mouth. All that’s left is muffled bouts of anger. Phil kicks at the air as he’s lifted by the waist, trying to fend off the series of vines trying to snag at his ankles to hold him in place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy please!” Tubbo squeaks, alerting his friend once more. He blinks, observing Tubbo as if he’s forgotten he’s there in the first place. “This </span>
  <em>
    <span>isn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to end well- whatever the egg is promising you, whatever it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>saying </span>
  </em>
  <span>isn’t worth it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the fuckin’ problem!” Tommy counters, tapping the side of his temple aggressively. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>have a clue what it’s saying, what it can </span>
  <em>
    <span>accomplish!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s going to accomplish bringing about a wasteland!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please Tubbo,” Tommy waves his friend’s concern off with a tightening frown. “You built </span>
  <em>
    <span>nukes </span>
  </em>
  <span>just to feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re- You’re overexaggerating things again!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m the one who overexaggerates!?” Tubbo winces when the vine squeezes him, another low rumble whirring in the floor and walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean-“ Tommy glances off to the side with a nervous grimace before shrugging. He snaps his attention back to the topic at hand in an instant though. “But that’s the thing!” A smile forms, something Tommy hasn’t done since he entered this nightmare he calls a basement. “You don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to worry, you don’t need to waste all your brain energy on building nukes! Because the egg, Tubbo- the egg will </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect you!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Is that what you want?” The goat boy murmurs, his ears drooping out of despair this time. He couldn’t deny it being a noble cause, but the outcome far outweighs whatever upside there is to helping a parasitic egg. And after everything Tommy has done, even if he isn’t as infected as he is now...</span>
  <em>
    <span>guilt pulls at his heart.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And Tommy senses it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’re you lookin’ all glum and shit?” He hides the nervousness in his question, internally attempting to interpret the boy’s sudden bout of sadness. Given Tubbo’s contact with the egg spore, Tommy could feel traces of Tubbo’s emotions. They’re small for sure, and if he could just </span>
  <em>
    <span>give in to the egg</span>
  </em>
  <span> then they’d be able to understand one another completely! But Tommy can sense a tug too, a fighting urge to break </span>
  <em>
    <span>away </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the egg, from </span>
  <em>
    <span>understanding.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did I-“ He doesn’t bother finishing, his statement dying away like his breath as another vine closes around his chest. He coughs, ears flicking when Tommy calls out his name, nearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>believing </span>
  </em>
  <span>the concern this time around. He doesn’t want to </span>
  <em>
    <span>begin </span>
  </em>
  <span>to think about if he pushed Tommy to this, that if he didn’t exile him none of this would’ve happened. But in his own paranoid state, Tommy simply couldn’t handle his friend being targeted by Dream, even if he’s rotting away in a highly secure prison.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What about what I want?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy blinks. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The egg-“ Tubbo starts, voice leaving only apathy in the wake of each word. “Will it promise me what I want too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm-“ The blonde glances around the room, searching for any signs of a trap. All he can see is the pulsing egg spore, a melancholy Sam Nook, and small glimpses of Phil who’s currently being swarmed by a tangle of crimson. He pauses, closing his eyes to </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask a single question to his idol.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The sacrificial lamb must not be rewarded.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It must be taught an example.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Teach it such. It’s desire is unobtainable.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy is about to question </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>the egg knows what Tubbo desires, but then again it knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>desire well before the hotel finished construction. He focuses back to Tommy’s friend, still a bit stunned that he’s been answered with such clarity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Basically Tubbo, the egg called you a pussy-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Either the egg didn’t say anything to him or Tommy is exaggerating, </span>
  <em>
    <span>as usual.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you need to learn through fear! And I know that sounds like it’ll suck total </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass-“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>To he fair, it probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>will. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“But! If you prove to the egg how much you love it, then it’ll give you your desire!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s desire is unobtainable. Do not entertain the sacrificial lamb.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo’s not s fuckin’ lamb-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whore you talking to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Tommy turns back to the miserable goat boy after having looked over his shoulder at seemingly nothing. The egg’s statement is a harsh reminder this time, telling him that it’s best not to swindle Tubbo in such a way. “Uh, don’t worry. Anyways, what’s your greatest fear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo goes silent, leaving nothing more than writhing vines and roots to fill the space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A defeated blue stare is his only answer, Tommy adjusting the collar of his suit. He chuckles nervously, fidgeting with his tie as he awaits a proper answer. He finds himself hesitating to look at Tubbo, how he’s stopped fighting against the rough hold of the crimson. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on man,” He sighs, removing his jacket. It’s grown rather hot in here, hot to a point where Tommy can no longer stand it. Which is odd considering the egg would notify him if the room had grown too hot for either of their liking. He abandons the dark pieces of cloth on the mossy floor, revealing his white collared shirt. “Is it spiders? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Death? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Falling, o-or-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The opposite.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you stop not making se-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The thing I’m most afraid of, it’s the opposite of what I want.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Tommy thinks.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He rattles his skull for what that could possibly means, only to leave him </span>
  <em>
    <span>stumped </span>
  </em>
  <span>at every turn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>isn’t helping.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well.” Tubbo shrugs, trying and </span>
  <em>
    <span>failing </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get comfortable in the vines wishing to grab him from him head to toe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy squirms in place. “You’re acting </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuckin’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>weird.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette glances away slowly, shaking his head in almost agreement. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Tubbo-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s all too familiar, isn’t it? The apathetic tone, the defeated expression, and the body language signifying that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready to accept his fate. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It all crawls back to Tommy, something even a web of twisting red vines couldn’t even cover up. A large, lit room surrounded by black stone, a menagerie of items collected and to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> collected, and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>teary farewell seconds before being saved by the skin of their teeth.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s desire is u-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you afraid of!?” It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>demand </span>
  </em>
  <span>this time, letting his intimidating demeanor </span>
  <em>
    <span>break </span>
  </em>
  <span>and reveal for the first time </span>
  <em>
    <span>true concern</span>
  </em>
  <span> over </span>
  <b>
    <em>his </em>
  </b>
  <span>friend not responding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pair of blue eyes look down, staring at the moss and slithering vines, at the room coated in crimson that will wind up being a chamber for his last coherent thoughts before becoming a puppet. Would it matter to tell Tommy? He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>asking </span>
  </em>
  <span>after all, and the goat boy acknowledges that he prompted him in the first place. Slowly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>painstakingly slow- </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo’s gaze reaches a shaky pair of crimson eyes, ones that flicker and dance with </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear </span>
  </em>
  <span>for a simple answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...Losing my best friend.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy stops.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will I get you back if I give in?” There’s an audible break in his voice as he looks to his friend, fuzzy ears flattening on either side of his head. After all the torment he’s endured at the hotel, after rushing blindly into a room that spells a terrible fate and being prodded and squeezed to the point of having his breathing constricted, his resolve finally bursts through the form of wet eyes and blubbering pleas. “Will it- Will the egg let us trade places? I c-“ He hiccups in between his lament, warm tears mixing with remnants of a dirt smear on his cheek. “I could...b- be </span>
  <em>
    <span>better, be more useful to it.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He half expects Tommy to retort on that, but the stunned silence allows him to continue. “I-I’ve built nukes, b...been a leader-“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>A terrible one at that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“If it can...find more use out of me to the point where it’ll let go of you instead, will it let me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T-“ The blonde trembles, ignoring the minuscule red vines beginning to curl around his shoes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tubbo you shouldn’t have to give up anything just to keep m…”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s when Tommy brings himself to look into tear stained eyes does his statement fade, its owner having created it from sheer hypocrisy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...to keep me safe…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t get a reply, only more sniffling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B-But I can’t just- I mean, if I don’t- What if you-“ A hand flings itself into blonde locks, the poor boy seconds away from ripping his hair out. He groans, shaking his head and staggering back, thrown off guard from the force he has to use to pull himself free of the stray vines. “Tubbo you- you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And so do you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-“ Tommy lurches, breath caught in his throat. It’s a ridiculous idea, but Tommy’s hazy mind now being forced to work overtime is grasping at straws. “What if I keep you here!?” He offers, chest rising and falling in deep breaths. “Y-You know! You could just...</span>
  <em>
    <span>stay here!</span>
  </em>
  <span> And nobody will </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever </span>
  </em>
  <span>have to know Tubbo, I promise! If they don’t know you’re here then they won’t kill you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The look of sorrow to </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgust </span>
  </em>
  <span>followed by another piercing sob is a quick realization that the offer is indeed a terrible one. But he only meant to spout the first thing that came to mind! They could come up with </span>
  <em>
    <span>other </span>
  </em>
  <span>plans! As long as Tubbo stayed put and stayed sa-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A whisper sends a shockwave through him, jolting from the impact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Has Dream influenced you </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>this </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>much?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a pitiful wheeze, some of the words not even comprehensible unless thought a second time over. His hands tremble, chewing at his bottom lip as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>struggles </span>
  </em>
  <span>to answer, the blonde left dumbfounded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It should be as simple as that, a statement to put a stop to the constant whining that has bothered the egg since Tubbo first arrived. But even now Tommy insists on Tubbo’s usefulness to the eggpire, in fact he </span>
  <em>
    <span>boasted </span>
  </em>
  <span>about how he’s best friends with someone so cunning. All he wants, is for them to be by each other’s side, infected by the egg or not. But there is never a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mix, </span>
  </em>
  <span>either both were infected, or both weren’t. And since Tommy is lacking in the latter option…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But to step back, to see the bigger picture- </span>
  <em>
    <span>a hellscape coating this entire room and running rampant throughout the hotel in forms of spore laced food and water...to have already realized he didn’t like the person he was becoming so he stepped back from the side of an anarchist, only to repeat the same mistake on a far worse scale- To repeat the same rhetoric about </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Dream, </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>keeping an attachment that’ll rot into an obsession under his possession and his possession only- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Their friendship will have soured if Tommy even thought twice about that idea.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And if he keeps this up even without that plot, it’ll deteriorate just as quickly too.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just...wanted everyone to come together. I- The egg could’ve...stopped so many wars and conflicts…</span>
  <em>
    <span>right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s crying comes to a slow pause, looking back to his friend. Judging by his reaction- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo horribly regrets comparing Tommy to Dream like that, especially since he clearly isn’t in the right sense of mind- </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy is now in a more contemplative state. But there’s something else at hand, the way Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>looks </span>
  </em>
  <span>to his best friend. He wants an answer, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs </span>
  </em>
  <span>one, a tether of sensibility to knock him back to a clear, non-controlled head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, y-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A gasp fills the humid, crimson colored room as the poor boy is flung into the air by the vine, releasing its grip on him. Tendrils break from the mossy earth and stone walls just as he plummets back towards the ground, being snagged midway in the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm-“ Tubbo glances on either side of him, two sets of vines attached to his wrists and ankles in a burning grip. He bleats as the vines seer and burrow further into his skin, leaving immediate marks on the afflicted areas. Tommy just asked him a question, is it an offence to answer? Did he somehow upset him by even </span>
  <em>
    <span>daring to answer? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Stop it!” He whines, only to cry aloud when he attempts to move his leg and be greeted with the vine wrenching it </span>
  <em>
    <span>too far </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the opposite direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm, egg?” Tommy already knew his friend’s ankle is twisted the second he noticed the uncanny angle it hung limply at, but the ruthless grip on the vines continued, only inciting more pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo is to the point of wailing now, bordering on hysterics as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>begs </span>
  </em>
  <span>his friend for mercy.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“Please! Tommy, </span><em><span>please-</span></em> <em><span>I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry! I wo-“</span></em></p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde tenses at the sudden movement, and it takes him a moment to understand the image before him. A final vine </span>
  <em>
    <span>darts </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the reddened depths of the room, wrapping around the pleading boy’s neck in an instant. It curls several times over before woeful apologies sputter and whimper into a mess of gurgling and high pitched whines. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy trembles at the sight of the vine beginning to </span>
  <em>
    <span>crush </span>
  </em>
  <span>his friend’s throat, screaming as loud as he can as he rushes up to the horrific display.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No stop!” He hollers, reaching up for the vine that dare attack Tubbo in such a way. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“H-He’ll die! He only has one canon life left, please!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He hasn’t had to beg like this since the final disc war with Dream, trying to offer anything he could just to make sure Tubbo wouldn’t endure something like this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yet here history is, repeating before him and so soon too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How has he made the same mistake twice?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy scowls when the vine finally loosens, a series of rattling gasps making his blood freeze. “A-And let go of Phil, too!” Fuck it, the only thing he’s guilty of is breaking a plate and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yelling </span>
  </em>
  <span>a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t dare glance away from Tubbo even as Phil is released, vines uncoiling and dropping the unconscious man to the moss covered floor in a clumsy heap, a soft groan being the only audible noise from him. He nods in approval, eyes narrowed at the vines, hoping they’ll understand that there’s a much </span>
  <em>
    <span>easier, less violent </span>
  </em>
  <span>way to do this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde watches the vine inch away from Tubbo.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And rear back in on itself, preparing to strike directly through the brunette’s chest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wh- Don’t d-d-don’t don’t don’t!” He stammers as quickly as he possibly can before </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>intervenes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The sacrificial lamb is powerful…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Far too powerful…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s influence over you outweighs mine…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your adoration for me will be stolen by but a meek sheep…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This needs to be corrected immediately.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Tommy focuses on the pulsing spore embedded on the far wall now, watching the bulging thing hum in a manner he now finds disgusting. It looks ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>burst, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a small sac filled with </span>
  <em>
    <span>who knows what </span>
  </em>
  <span>threatening to give at any second. “Stop calling Tubbo a lamb, why’re you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not question me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>NEVER think to question me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But- But it’s Tubbo!” Tommy’s whine earns a far more harsh tremor, sending him onto his back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It isn’t a sacrificial lamb without sacrifice.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A single lamb with large influence is enough to topple us.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not let it silence my voice. Do not let it cut you loose from me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You…” Tommy gasps shakily, shoulders tensing and flickering eyes going wide in revelation. “You weren’t ever going t...to help me, were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It is still influencing y-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not speak over me, naive boy! Hold your barking tongue!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If my desire is to keep Tubbo safe, then why the fuck are you trying t-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Your only desire is to serve me, disciple. Even at the cost of the blood of the lamb.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that’s not fair! Y-You said you would! You </span>
  <em>
    <span>promised!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He listened to it for </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks</span>
  </em>
  <span> on end, at first trying to drown it out and ignore it. But once Tubbo was brought into the mix, that he could be safe and secure, Tommy had slipped. A gorgeous pool of red wasn’t as pretty of a price to pay for the utmost protection of his dearest friend when first tempted, but now? This is a lie, another </span>
  <em>
    <span>betrayal </span>
  </em>
  <span>that will possibly just shake him to the core for the upteenth time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Do not react to my plot with shock, disciple. You yourself are the trickster, the scammer. It is well within my benefit that I apply the same tactics. Once the lamb is slaughtered, you’ll know to truly embrace me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...h-“ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t let Tubbo lose his last life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All this time spent in order to protect him, so many people under the same horrible spell and conned with false promises, only for his friend to be close to being offed within seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Egg, can you </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>just-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t bargain with me as the lamb had tried to do!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Tommy staggers to his feet in spite of the newest, more aggressive tremor, cracks beginning to form in the walls and dust spilling down from the ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns his head towards two figures, Sam Nook attempting to help Philza stand. “Sam Nook!” He shouts, immediately gaining the weary gazes of a man in a raccoon mask and another man far too tired of fighting. Their stare lingers in the rumbling room until Tommy gives a firm, determined nod, eyes shining. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Save Tubbo and Phil.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“TOMMYINNIT…” </em>
  </b>
  <span>The cartoonish mask tilts his head, a smile beneath it. Sam Nook reaches over his shoulder, the sound of metal slinking from its scabbard. </span>
  <b>
    <em>“IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>An unearthly screech erupts from the room as a tendril is sliced, the vine frantically waving about while the severed bit uncoils itself from Tubbo’s ankle, falling limply on the ground. There’s a shout of surprise from Phil, swiftly dodging another collapsing vine. The distinct sound of slicing fills the air, along with a scent akin to cut grass. The ear piercing shrieks grow louder, and the egg spore begins to rapidly pulse and throb, crimson roots surging out from the center. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo finds his restraints lifted, gravity doing the work as he begins to plummet, only to be stopped. He shuts his eyes tight, being propelled forward until he comes to a stop in Sam Nook’s arms. He dares to smile, hope returning in his eyes. It’s short lived however, when another stab of pain to his ankle makes him holler, ears ringing from the horrid screeching layered over the crumbling basement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy!” He looks over the man’s shoulder to face his friend. He looks...confused, dumbfounded. It’s as though the danger surrounding him is nothing more than a shocking spectacle- which to be fair, it is, but this isn’t the time to simply watch this place fall apart! “Come on man!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy slowly shakes his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s eyes widen, fighting back against Sam’s hold while Philza approaches the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to take care of it.” He mouths back, leaving his shocked friend to watch him slowly grow further and further away as Sam Nook carries him with Phil now taking charge with the sword. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Tubbo whimpers breathlessly. He can’t just...</span>
  <em>
    <span>stay down here! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Defeating that thing- it would- it would… He pounds on Sam’s back, demanding that he be set free. He isn’t going to let this thing take Tommy again, he isn’t going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>lose </span>
  </em>
  <span>his dearest friend because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>another</span>
  </em>
  <span> manipulator pushing him to his demise!</span>
  <em>
    <span> “No!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy never wanted to be a hero.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the other reason as to why he accepted the egg.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because he can’t be the hero if he’s on the opposite side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe deep down he was always aware of the egg’s true nature, but a </span>
  <em>
    <span>break </span>
  </em>
  <span>from being labeled as a savior was quite the tempting offer. Tommy thought highly of himself, consistently bragged with such a heart in his chest that he even attracted the attention of the next big threat- and after some coaxing he fell into it with </span>
  <em>
    <span>open arms.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy doesn’t want to go out like a martyr.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But to protect Tubbo as his last redeeming grace for whatever hell he just put all these guests through? It’d be worth it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He intends to- </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopes </span>
  </em>
  <span>to survive, cussing up a storm at the egg spore as he rushes towards it. He trips over a vine that attempts to grab him and potentially rip him to shreds for his insubordination, but to hell with that. This thing hurt his friends, hurt him, hurt Sam Nook, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and hurt Tubbo.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scrambles back to his feet, kicking up moss and mushrooms as he practically falls against the far wall, placing his hands in front of themselves. He cries in disgust as the vines immediately begin ascending along his hands, squirming and trailing up like thin, wriggling insects. He pulls back with a hard tug, some of the roots snapping immediately. He has to use his foot to </span>
  <em>
    <span>push against </span>
  </em>
  <span>the wall in order to fully free himself, but even then parts of the crimson still cling to his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bastard!” He howls at that </span>
  <em>
    <span>damned, ugly, </span>
  </em>
  <span>egg spore. He doesn’t care if it listens, if it even responds. Perhaps the splitting foundation and low creaking </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>one in its own right, but Tommy isn’t done with it just yet. “You’re lucky I don’t have an axe or I’d fuckin’ punt you in your stupid face!” The spore doesn’t exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>a face, </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s a spore, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but the dirt covered blonde is psyching himself up, to prepare for his one and only option.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, he hollers, embedding both hands into the edges of the spore, the thing shrieking and latching multiple twisting vines onto him in retaliation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy grits his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And starts to pull.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam! Sam let me g-“ Tubbo’s repeated order falls short this time as a swathe of vines crawl along the stairwell and walls, Tubbo able to have a good view of what was going on behind the trio. He has to get back down there and help Tommy! He saw how the crimson encased the basement door, trapping him in there. Maybe it’s a death sentence to wish to go back down there- he doesn’t even know if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>get back down there anymore- but he has to try for Tommy!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have time, Tubbo!” Phil isn’t too concerned with looking over his shoulder right now, only what lay ahead. He slices the nearest obstacle decorated in a velvet red with the netherite sword, dirtied hands trembling in a white knuckled grip. It comes with ease to him, having been, and technically </span>
  <em>
    <span>still, </span>
  </em>
  <span>quite the swordsman in his early days. Retirement has his perks though, and thinking about it, maybe he should’ve just stuck to staying with Techno rather than taking his chances with a resort ran by cultists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Up ah-“ Tubbo watches the older man slice through the vine that had burst through one of the walls before he even gets his warning out, slightly impressed were it not for the pain and concern clinging to his body and heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“ATTENTION ALL BIG INNIT HOTEL GUESTS-“ </em>
  </b>
  <span>Sam Nook’s voice carries a loud, booming echo to it, and if Tubbo listens closely amongst the snapping and crumbling, he can hear the crackle of an overhead speaker. </span>
  <b>
    <em>“THIS IS SAM NOOK SPEAKING. TOMMYINNIT HAS REQUIRED YOUR PRESENCE AT THE ROOF. PROCEED THERE IMMEDIATELY WITH NO EXCEPTIONS OR DELAY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR STAY.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The roof?” Tubbo raises a brow, only to choke on his own saliva as he’s forcibly thrown downwards, Sam Nook narrowly avoiding a vine from crashing into them by sliding under it, still managing to keep a grip on the injured goat boy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why the roof? Tommy never instructed Sam to do that, so what is the purpose?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that just trapping everyone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“I’M AFRAID EVERYONE HERE IS ALREADY TRAPPED, TUBBO UNDERSCORE. THE MAIN DOORS ARE INACCESSIBLE TO OUR GUESTS.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But- But you can lift the enchantments, r- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil on your left!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a quick, downward stroke, a massive vine that had ripped itself from the flooring is punctured, Phil retracting the netherite weapon before he can fully cut through it. He pants, sweat forming near his temple as he charges ahead, swallowing hard. It won’t be long before he becomes exhausted, what with skipping out on lunch and nearly being </span>
  <em>
    <span>mind controlled by an egg, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his physical and mental energy is starting to run thin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam Nook shakes his head, rushing up the steps despite Tubbo’s added weight. He hops over a vine that sprouts from nowhere, the brunette tightening his grip. “What about To-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“AFTER ALL GUESTS HAVE BEEN TAKEN CARE OF I WILL TEND TO THE RESCUE OF TOMMYINNIT. I CANNOT ALLOW HIM TO BE IN ANY SORT OF HARM BUT HIS DEMANDS MUST BE MET FIRST. PHILZA CAN NOT CARRY YOU, TUBBO UNDERSCORE. AND TOMMYINNIT INSISTED THAT I SAVE BOTH YOU, PHILZA, AND BY EXTENSION- OUR GUESTS.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I…” The boy looks out onto the spiraling void of a stairwell, a massive swarm of thin red veins crawling up and into the walls and stone stairs. He can’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>see </span>
  </em>
  <span>the basement anymore, most likely consumed by a cloud of crimson somewhere in the darkness. His eyes widen at the sight of doors a flight or so down beginning to open, being met with infected guests. He half expects them to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>towards </span>
  </em>
  <span>where the egg is most prominent, but to his surprise, they begin to slowly shuffle up the steps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s an audible wince as a metal door bursts open once they reach the top, Tubbo squinting in the aggressive sunlight. He’s met with a heat far more intense then whatever that egg room had to offer, burying his face in Sam Nook’s shoulder. The sound of footsteps running on stone are finally heard over the tremors within the hotel, and if he glances down, he can already see tiny splits being woven into the roof. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait-“ Tubbo stares up at Sam as he’s lowered onto the unstable ground, setting him down. He whines and turns his head away when he lays eyes on his twisted ankle, biting his bottom lip to fight against the pain. It hurts just to </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the thing, and already his mind is still rushing a mile a minute because of his concerns for Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“I WILL TEND TO ASSISTING ALL OTHER GUESTS ONTO THE ROOF.” </em>
  </b>
  <span>The masked man starts, clearing some of the dust from his outfit. He strides up to Phil, taking the sword and placing a hand on his shoulder, nodding in thanks. </span>
  <b>
    <em>“PHILZA MINECRAFT, PLEASE ENDURE THAT TUBBO, DEAR FRIEND OF TOMMY, ESCAPES. I BELIEVE YOU WILL SAVE HIM BEFORE I RETURN WITH THE REST OF THE PARTY.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I don’t-“ Phil rolls his eyes with a groan as Sam Nook charges back down the stairs without another word, leaving the two of them behind. “Welp-“ He lets his arms fall to his sides, staring out at the prison just beyond the badlands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do we do?” Tubbo’s gaze shifts from the door, then to Phil, the boy helpless to stand. He shifts, trying to see if he could at least move without the use of his legs. He stops once pain stings into him yet again, clutching the damaged leg and squeezing it tightly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Damnit-“</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How should I know!?” Phil hopes that Sam manages to rescue Techno in this whole...</span>
  <em>
    <span>mess.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we don’t hurry the roof could collapse!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“This whole place is going to collapse!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo stops dead, all his attention set on the man and any pain deriving from his leg is now far less of a problem. “Y...I...Bu...t….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil blinks in confusion, stunned that Tubbo doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“What do you expect!? All those vines poking through the walls and shit, Tubbo this place is going down!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But-“ A loud tremor interjects, Phil staggering back. Tubbo gasps when the older man teeters on the edge, only to fall back with a curse. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Philza!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stares in disbelief, that he just watched someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>fall </span>
  </em>
  <span>right before him, when a distinctive fluttering fills the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a complete mess of dark feathers flying everywhere, but the dirty blonde just barely manages to cling to the edge by flying with his damaged wings. They haven’t been used in ages, and Phil will agree that he’s a bit rusty, but even if he couldn’t soar high in the skies anymore, a few wing flaps have the potential to save his life. He pulls himself up, resting on his hands and knees while taking slow, deep breaths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a barrier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, surrounding the perimeter of the hotel.It...isn’t just the doors- I-I bumped into it while flying-“ Phil swallows, still reeling from the fact that he had been moments away from plummeting to his doom and respawning inside Techno’s…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His wings flare, an unsettling blue gaze set on a now uncomfortable Tubbo. “Uhm, Phil?” He backs away, trying not to get the man to notice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He notices.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil? Phil Phil Phil </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It isn’t like the goat boy could get very far, struggling as he’s hauled into the man’s grasp. He fidgets, blood rushing in his ears and just about ready to </span>
  <em>
    <span>fight </span>
  </em>
  <span>even with his injuries.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re gonna have to trust me, mate.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust you!?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a timid squeak, but the low tone in Philza’s voice isn’t bringing him any sort of comfort. He glances around frantically, trying to think of a proper way out. There has to be something up here Tommy or Sam wanted them to see, right? This couldn’t just be it!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Phil starts drifting closer to the edge.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo amps up his struggling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushes against his chest, thrashing about like a child half his age would. He doesn’t care, not when he’s about to be dropped nearly a dozen stories. “Phil wait! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He nearly bargains with him just to get him to pause, but the man’s mind seems made up. “Philza Minecraft if you do what I think you will then I’m going to have to use my one good leg to kick you in-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo screams as Phil attempts to throw him from the cracking roof, the boy furiously shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo! Let go!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No! No, I don’t want to!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but there’s no other choice!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” It’s all Tubbo can think to scream, eyes growing misty once again. “No, no </span>
  <em>
    <span>no! </span>
  </em>
  <span>I don’t- I...please!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...You’ll be fine.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil’s second attempt to throw the terrified boy from the tallest point of the hotel </span>
  <em>
    <span>works.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets one more good view of the prison before reaching the ground, half eaten food Ranboo acquired for him and iron he found in a complimentary chest scattering about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Tubbo_</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo gasps.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He awakes with a start, clutching at his chest with a racing heart hammering against it. A bead of sweat rolls down his brow as he settles into his familiar surroundings, a cozy looking cabin made from logs and planks. It’s oddly warm, despite the snowy climate from outside. Maybe it’s the heatwave going on, or maybe it’s the resounding shock making his body tremble, but...he’s home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s out of the hotel.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There really was only one way.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Is that why Sam Nook showed them to the roof?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His answer is in the form of </span>
  <em>
    <span>several </span>
  </em>
  <span>new notifications.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>PH1LZ4</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Karl Jacobs</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Quackity</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo launches to his feet only to immediately regret it, backing down and clutching his thigh. There’s still an ache in his ankle, but not at all sprained from the looks of it. He pushes onward, staggering with a slight limp as he braces the mild cold of Snowchester. The hotel is out of view, but it didn’t necessarily mean much right now. Even from here his ears flick at a familiar rumbling, although far more distant this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He trudges through the snow covered yard and near the icy shore, slowly raising his trident. Trembling, he places a foot into the freezing waters, tensing from the sharp sensation. It’s quickly done and over with however as he’s launched far into the air, looking over Snowchester one last time before turning back ahead. He doesn’t mind whenever he has to plunge back into the cold waters, for it’s but a second before he’s airborne yet again. As he drifts closer, he can spot the hotel beginning to lean in on itself, part of the building looking as though it has caved in and beginning to lift. Another loud creak reaches its way to Tubbo, more debris and dust crumbling from Tommy’s latest passion project.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a shame, really. All Tommy wanted out of this was to not cause any conflict. Even under the influence of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>egg </span>
  </em>
  <span>his goal had been to keep someone he holds close to him as safe as possible… And honestly, Tubbo can’t blame him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s made plenty of mistakes for the “safety” of others too.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The goat boy turns his head towards the prison, briefly casting a scornful gaze towards it as he soars through the sky. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hopes </span>
  </em>
  <span>that his ears are playing tricks on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Because beneath the symphony of destruction, he can envision a maddened chuckle from a dark, lonely cell.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Tubbo reaches land, the notifications begin coming in at a rapid succession.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Purpled</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Technoblade</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>GeorgeNotFound</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Sapnap</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Antfrost</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> Fell From A High Place.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The goat boy picks up the pace, cutting corners and taking mild amounts of damage as he skids along the grass, desperate to reach the path back towards the hotel. He comes to a screeching halt as a resounding crack that can be heard for </span>
  <em>
    <span>miles </span>
  </em>
  <span>forces him to cover his ears. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And from the slightly obscured view he has, Big Innit Hotel crumbles.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He has to duck down to protect himself from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>blast </span>
  </em>
  <span>of dust and debris, even going so far as to shield himself within a dirt wall after scrounging away at the earth. He coughs from a lack of proper air- and possibly from nearly having his throat crushed- sitting in the desolate dark and awaiting for </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind of sign for it to end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know how long he spends in there, far too long for his liking with his back pressed against stone, and it isn’t until the call of a concerned voice makes him stiffen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He swears he’s hearing things, but...he digs through his dirt fortress, inching back out onto the sunny grass. He blinks when he sees a familiar sheep girl with her hands clasped together, a tall enderman standing right beside her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Puffy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah Tubbo?” The young woman seems more concerned with </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s inside of there more than anything. “Who...who put you in there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you find me?” The brunette only responds with a question, tilting his head to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We saw your name tag?” Ranboo points out, lifting a claw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Well I was just… Wait, is the hotel okay!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo grits his teeth, and Puffy glances away awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhm...</span>
  <em>
    <span>no.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should’ve expected this honestly, he witnessed it collapse into a pile of bricks and wood and-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo checks the notifications once again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All are accounted for except for Sam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And Tommy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god-“ With a </span>
  <em>
    <span>sickening </span>
  </em>
  <span>feeling twisting his gut, Tubbo bounds away from the confused pair who immediately follow suit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo! Tubbo, wait!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their cries fall on deaf ears, dust stinging his teary eyes as he leaps from the grassy hills and onto the wooden path, already having to stop a few meters from the entrance to Big Innit Hotel...or what remains of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wooden path is caved in, utterly </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroyed </span>
  </em>
  <span>with some parts of it singed and splintered. Shattered glass where a set of double doors had once been are prevalent near the front, with bits of cobble and red terracotta poking through. The rest, is but a mix of stone and wood, with the occasional unfamiliar piece sticking out amongst it. Jagged edges and broken pieces litter the circumference of what was once a glorious hotel turned dark by its owner- </span>
  <em>
    <span>by a parasitic egg. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Clouds of dust </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>rise from the destruction, and even the smallest kick from a plank of wood could stir up a storm. The only thing truly left standing, if not horribly bent at odd angles, are some of the pipes used for the water supply- which, given a piece of shrapnel is embedded in one of the tanks, would flood and soak the debris in due time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo shakes his head, lips parted in silent disbelief as footsteps approach from behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Puffy opens her mouth to say something, reaching out a hand to comfort Tubbo before pausing. He looks as though the slightest touch will send him crumpling like paper, that he’ll break down and collapse much like the hotel before them. Ranboo simply looks on in shock, swallowing hard as he contemplates saying something.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“T...Tubbo?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy in question trembles, keeping his back to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A gathering begins to form, the first being Eret to check on all the calamity after being warned by Ranboo and Puffy about the dastardly plot going on within the hotel’s walls, only to come back to a scrapyard. Next, is those who had stayed at the hotel, some living closer by than others. It’s a small gathering, given how distanced some abodes are, but it isn’t long before the scathing red eyes of the eggpire return, assessing the damage. There’s nary a sign of any of the red vines despite the damage it caused, increasing worry in both Bad and Ant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo steps back when Sam Nook raises his arms, alerting everyone. He’s caked in dirt, dark red and black smears coating his attire. The silly raccoon mask is now scratched beyond repair, with half of the flimsy plastic chipped off to reveal a man who normally wears a creeper mask in his casual days.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“WORRY NOT!” </em>
  </b>
  <span>Sam Nook starts, glancing over his shoulder as if to fully take in the damage. </span>
  <b>
    <em>“WE DO ADVISE THAT YOU STAND CLEAR SO THAT NO ONE…”</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sam can’t stop shaking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“SO THAT NO ONE IS HURT! P...PLEASE RE...turn...t</em>
  </b>
  <span>o your….” He drops the act with a pitiful sob, followed by a heartbreaking shriek, rushing to sift through the debris. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Tommy!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that, breaks Tubbo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He instantly copies Sam, leaping onto piles upon piles of wood and stone, desperately digging through it in order to clear space- </span>
  <em>
    <span>to find his beloved friend.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god-“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo’s eyes widen before glancing over to Puffy, the poor sheep girl having a hand cupped over her mouth at the realization that there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>but one still trapped in the hotel.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy please, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Through wet, blurry eyes, the goat boy searches through piece after piece, even lifting much heavier sections of debris just to make sure his friend isn’t beneath them. “Come on big man, </span>
  <em>
    <span>come on!” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Bad quickly joins in, beginning to sift through the wood and stone alongside Ant. “Find the spore- make sure it’s safe too!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it weren’t for the task at hand Tubbo </span>
  <em>
    <span>gladly </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t mind ripping away one of their canon lives, possession or not. But he focuses on searching, tears and dust mixing into an unsatisfying combination and stinging his eyes. He sniffles, only to break out into a cough as he chokes on the tainted air. If he looks close enough he can find thin red vines, clearly having withered away. But their touch make his hands turn red upon contact, in fact just about </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>he touches now turns a dark shade of crimson as he tosses stone after stone, plank after-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tubbo, you’re bleeding!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Ranboo’s cry that snaps him briefly out of his trance to find Tommy, slowly looking down. Sure enough, his palms have multiple slices, minuscule pieces of glass embedded into his fingers. “Oh…” He visibly shakes, finally noticing that the debris is absolutely covered in sharp pieces of shrapnel among the broken shards of glass. Even now he can feel a wetness form near his knee, moving back to reveal he had been resting on what looks to be a broken mirror from one of the bathrooms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T-Tubbo, come on,” The monochrome boy helps his friend to his feet, Puffy approaching them as carefully as possible. When Tubbo starts to resist his gentle pull away from the site, the sheep girl begins to help guide him away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No- No n-n...no!” He’s been dragged about far too many times today, and he isn’t going to let it happen </span>
  <em>
    <span>again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He doesn’t want to hurt Ranboo, of course not, but given how he clings to his wrists despite him fighting against his grasp kicks in a primal instinct to fend for himself. “Ranboo let go!” He twists in his hold, seconds away from shredding his throat with a shriek that will </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make his friend release him, when Puffy interjects.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Tubbo.” She speaks calmly, trying to find his panicked blue eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“J-Just let go of me! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her gaze wanders from his to Ranboo’s, nodding silently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo finds himself free again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He staggers, ready to get back onto his knees and sort through </span>
  <em>
    <span>every last scrap </span>
  </em>
  <span>to find Tommy before a soft, worried expression makes him pause. Ranboo mirrors the shorter girl’s look, letting out a nervous chirrup at the sight of their friend in near shambles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-Well come on!” He huffs, staggering back towards the debris only to cry aloud when his foot falls through a deep hole. They both gasp, quickly helping him back up and </span>
  <em>
    <span>away </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the damage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo, please.” Ranboo places a hand on the erratic boy’s shoulder, only for him to wrench the gesture away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No you don’t understand! He’s-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...I found him.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo whirls around time find Sam crawling out from a deep hole obstructed by large panels of what was once the lobby’s walls, carrying a limp form in his arms. Tubbo’s breath catches in his throat, slowly meeting Sam. He can only stare at the boy who once had a spark of </span>
  <em>
    <span>fire </span>
  </em>
  <span>dance in his eyes, the one who would fight for something he cares about so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>deeply and would protect his friends no matter what the cost. He recalls how </span>
  <em>
    <span>energetic </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was, how he’d come up with a scheme every so often just to piss someone off, only for that chaotic flame to be snuffed, the blonde looking incredibly pale.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T…” Tubbo swallows, noticing the thin red vines </span>
  <em>
    <span>beneath </span>
  </em>
  <span>the skin of his cheek and neck, more prominent given his complexion. He lifts his head up, pushing back tears for </span>
  <em>
    <span>one last hope. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Sam...h-help me take him to the holy land! R-Right now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The h-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just do it!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam only hesitates for a second, but as soon as a bucket of water is placed down he propels himself, Tommy still in his grasp. Tubbo wields his own trident, leaving Puffy, Ranboo, and a confused crowd whose probably going to have migraines within the next hour or so. Tommy is still infected, that parasite is still taking away what little energy and love he has left now that it’s been put to a temporary stop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guests no longer appear to be under its total control, but he takes notice how some are dazed with light pink eyes. They could take care of that in just a moment, explain what happened...and if they’re lucky, they won’t try and come barging down on Tommy’s door demanding he be strung up on the spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam comes to a halt as soon as he lands in the yard of a familiar white cathedral with purple stained glass, Tubbo approaching him. He looks the pale boy over, gently nudging his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s near freezing even in the heat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sam can see Tubbo’s pupils shrink.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“T-Take him into the church!” He stammers, not waiting for an answer and pushing Sam forward. “The egg- i-it’s still inside him! It’s not enough!” If just </span>
  <em>
    <span>being </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the holy land won’t do, then perhaps the church would! Sam picks up his pace upon Tubbo’s demanding request, ducking his head as he enters the holy temple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pattern of quartz and glowstone greets them, hazmat suits both used and new resting on armor stands. The first thing they spot however, is a fountain pouring downwards, magma blocks placed on the floor in order to create bubbles and keep the water purified.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There!” Tubbo starts, crouching low to the ground. “Lay him down a-and start splashing!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T-“ Sam shakes his head, turning his head away from the boy. He concedes however, slowly lowering Tommy onto the ground, being extra cautious with his head. The blonde doesn’t react, head slumping too the side and his shirt covered in grime along with pants to match. He sniffles, looking the once infected boy over and placing a hand to his forehead. “I don’t know if he’s-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam just </span>
  <em>
    <span>help </span>
  </em>
  <span>me! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Help him!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The goat boy wouldn’t be so snappish if his best friend’s life didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>depend </span>
  </em>
  <span>on quick timing. He rinses his bloodied hands before scooping water from the fountain, water rippling from the disturbance as Tubbo takes his fill. He pulls back, holding his cupped hands over his friend and dripping it along his chest, making his way up to his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam does the same, grabbing his own handful of purified water and sprinkling it over Tommy’s head, waiting for any sort of results.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>this is gonna work?” There’s a defeated sigh in the older man’s tone, casting a pitiful look to the brunette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because it will!” Tubbo shouts, going from delicately trickling water onto his friend’s form to outright splashing it on his chest. “H-He built this place! It has to be why he was immune the first time around!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Tubbo-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam </span>
  <em>
    <span>please!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The world sounds foreign at this point, having to beg and plead his way out of all this mess only to be tossed off a building and trying to get rid of a parasite still clinging to his friend. “We have to-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think he’s alive-“ Upon those words, Sam cups a hand over his mouth, tears falling from his face as a muffled sob escapes him. He takes in a rattled breath, avoiding Tubbo’s faltering expression. He doesn’t want to be the one to rip hope away from such a strong willed kid, didn’t want to accept it himself, but Tommy’s heartbeat was incredibly slow when he first checked it. And he hasn’t checked if it’s changed since…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s lip quivers, but he ignores Sam’s statement, now resorting to smacking his hand into the water and letting it splash down onto Tommy. A small puddle begins to form as the boy’s clothes quickly become soaked, usually fluffy hair being slicked down from the water. “He’s just infected-“ Tubbo says through grit teeth, his splashing becoming futile. “The egg just- it </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>has a hold on him and we have to get rid of it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy’s only response is more muffled sobs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam you’re not- you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo finally comes to a stop, giving his hand a break. The blonde is soaked from head to toe, and not a sign of him stirring has been made. He rests onto his knees, injured hands forming into fists. He doesn’t care if they start bleeding again, if tiny shards wiggle deeper in, its </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>compared to the stutter in his heart as he stares at Tommy with widened eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tommy?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He clutches his best friend, gently shaking him. This isn’t like exile, isn’t some </span>
  <em>
    <span>miracle </span>
  </em>
  <span>where Tubbo mistakenly thought Tommy dead. He’s pale, cold, and unresponsive. Tubbo leans forward, placing his horned head against his friend’s chest, warm tears a stark contrast to the cold water clinging to Tommy. The brunette violently trembles before a silent scream leaves him, burying his face into the other’s shirt. He sobs, clinging tightly to his best friend while Sam attempts to stammer out some form of condolences- some way to cast the </span>
  <em>
    <span>blame </span>
  </em>
  <span>onto himself amidst the young teen’s wails. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo nuzzles the soaking fabric of a white collared shirt, sniffling. Whatever Sam has to say, he isn’t listening, his senses falling into oblivion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>moves.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo’s eyes snap back open upon the strange sensation, every so slowly moving his head just the slightest. The shift occurs again, and this time, he places an ear to his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He hears a heartbeat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then a cough.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To-ommy!” Tubbo rears back, absolutely astonished at the sight of his friend’s chest rising and falling. He smiles, unable to stop the flow of tears now turned joyful when he spots that the red veins beneath his skin have vanished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T-Tommy!?” Sam faces the duo, heart soaring when he sees his friend just barely alive. He isn’t quite sure if Tommy can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>them, but so long as he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathing and moving, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they’d take whatever they could get.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T...bo….?” Tommy’s eyes slowly flutter open, a misshapen figure adjusting into the form of a plucky goat boy who he considers his best, dearest friend. He tilts his head, bemoaning from the ache in his neck just from having to turn it. “S...S..m?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah bud,” Sam laughs, shaking Tommy’s arm. “Y-Yeah, we’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another cough, and this time Tommy forces himself to sit up, only to lay back down as a sharp pain strikes his back. “Fuckin’ hell-“ He rasps, Sam and Tubbo immediately making sure he’s alright. “My back feels all...fucked and shit. Is this how Philza Minecraft feels every day because he is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>very old? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Am I gonna have to be old now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No Tommy,” Tubbo finally finds himself to genuinely smile, to get lost in an icy blue stare he’s been yearning to see since he arrived at the hotel. “You just need some rest is all. We’re...glad you’re back, big man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just glad I…” Tommy’s expression turns dejected, looking off to the side with an agitated sigh. “My hotel’s gone…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s...focus on the positives!” Sam offers, patting Tommy on the shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like the fact that you’re alive.” Tubbo adds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Course I am,” The blonde smirks, placing a hand on his chest. “Wasn’t gonna let a fuckin...</span>
  <em>
    <span>egg </span>
  </em>
  <span>do me in like that. No, not even the egg, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>piece </span>
  </em>
  <span>of the egg.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really scared us back there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S’okay,” Tubbo smiles, his short tail flicking from side to side in glee. He clears his throat, wiping away his tears. It doesn’t do much as a new set forms immediately, but at least he could see better now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we going then?” Tommy casts his gaze between the two, already wishing for </span>
  <em>
    <span>some </span>
  </em>
  <span>kind of relaxation...and rest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I reckon we take you to a hospital.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Tommy says flatly. “Hospitals are </span>
  <em>
    <span>gross </span>
  </em>
  <span>and for old people like Ph-“ His chest heaves, the boy breaking out into another coughing fit. “Why the fuck-“ He says between coughs. “Am I covered in water? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me it’s water.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh go to the hospital and we’ll tell you.” Tubbo gives Tommy a cheeky smile, and the blonde rolls his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, fine. Consider me a lowly old person now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No man,” With Sam’s assistance, Tommy is lifted back up, the pair carrying him out of the church. “We just want to make sure you’ll get better is all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And we were going to take you even if you said no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha- why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man doesn’t respond, only helping to carry Tommy further out. “Let’s just get you sorted out, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorted out? You know that means you’re going to hit me, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re taking you to the hospital, Tommy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“After you beat me up!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, to see a doctor!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The doctors are going to beat me up!?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo looks up at Sam. “Yeah uhm- I think he might be delirious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Delirious- I’ll show you fuckin’ delirious.” Tommy grumbles under his breath. He can’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>object </span>
  </em>
  <span>to receiving proper medical treatment, he nearly died! And once his headache wears off...he’s going to have to deal with what he’s done.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other boy locks eyes with his friend. “Hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before but I- everything I did- its-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can talk once you’re all patched up, alright?” He doesn’t want Tommy wasting any more energy than he has to, let alone think about all that’s happened. “And- it’s okay, y’know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“B-But you and Sam- Everyone…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>worry </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That just makes me more worried!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, we promise it’ll be alright, but get some rest for now, okay?” Sam smiles down at the skittish boy, and finally, he relents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thank you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Is there even a hospital here, or?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
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